


Sugar Daddy Series

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Domestic Discipline, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-19
Updated: 2005-05-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 16:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Shameless PWP.  Walter, Alex and one really hot car.





	1. Sugar Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

 

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Rating: Adult, baby. Contains m/m interaction, actual s-e-x (yes, I finally wrote a real sex scene. It's my first time so be gentle), language, a little Daddy/boy play and I believe, my first purely erotic spanking.

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: I think they should belong to me. Unlike CC, I can actually write.

Warnings: Quite possibly the most shameless thing I've ever written. 

Status: New/Series

Thanks: To my friends, the best in the world. Special thanks to Laura for the gorgeous series cover art. I love it!

Summary: Shameless PWP. Walter, Alex and one really hot car.

Dedication: For Gaby. She knows why.

Author's Note at end of story.

 

 

Sugar Daddy

 

by Lorelei

 

 

The dark blue Mercedes convertible idled at the curb, its engine purring so quietly it could barely be heard. The sidewalks were thronged with shoppers enjoying the Spring afternoon, strolling along the narrow street lined with its expensive cafes, shops and boutiques. A few of them gave the car an admiring glance as they passed. Others, mostly women, saved their admiring glances for the man behind the wheel.

 

The Hugo Boss dress shirt was crisp white, accentuating the broad shoulders just the way the tailor had intended. One hand rested on the wheel in a relaxed fashion, revealing the solid gold Rolex on his wrist. The other hand rested on the edge of the door, manicured fingernails tapping in time to the music playing on the car's state of the art sound system. His eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, his handsome face glowing with a radiant, obviously natural tan, the man behind the wheel of the sleek little car was big, bald and beautiful. 

 

And obviously waiting for someone.

 

Two women paused in the doorway of Les Jardins des Amour, the city's premier florist. They spoke quietly, their heads close together as they stole another look at the mysterious man, who was now glancing at his Rolex with the air of one who is beginning to grow impatient.

 

"Whomever he's waiting for is one lucky woman," one of them whispered. The man in the car glanced toward them and they blushed and ducked into the shop, giggling like schoolgirls.

 

Walter's head turned as the big glass door of the salon opened. Salon del Sol was the most exclusive salon in town and had prices to match. The elegant, white-coated stylists and aestheticians took their time with their patrons, pampering them with scrubs, soaks, masks, massages; all the things the very rich demanded and were happy to pay for.

 

Alex walked toward the car, the late afternoon sunlight caressing his unabashedly pretty face, illuminating him like some medieval angel, his white teeth bright against his tan. 

 

"Sorry I'm late, Walter," he purred, dropping four dainty little yellow and white striped bags containing several hundred dollars' worth of hair and skin products into the trunk, which had opened soundlessly upon his approach. "Marco talked me into trying the new honeysuckle facial. It took forever but I think you'll agree it was worth it."

 

Grinning like a naughty schoolboy, Alex opened the passenger side door and slid into the leather seat, sighing with contentment. 

 

"Did you miss me?" he husked, his sensual, smoky voice dropping an octave. Walter smiled and took off his sunglasses, hiding the way his breath caught at the sight of his gorgeous young lover. The way it always caught, even after four years together, every time he saw green eyes lit by the sun, soft dark hair just made for running his fingers through it, that pretty pink mouth, so talented and so generous. An exasperating, always surprising, addictive delight was his Alex.

 

Alex obediently turned his head for a kiss as a large hand gripped his chin firmly. Walter plundered his mouth greedily, savoring the taste of him, loving the feeling of Alex writhing and sighing under him. Loving not giving a damn about the passersby, ignoring the shocked utterances of some of the more conservative shoppers who had chosen that day to restock their truffle oil or pick up that new Kate Spade handbag.

 

Walter moved his hand down to Alex's crotch, the fabric of the impeccably cut Dolce and Gabbana trousers smooth under his hand. He found the hardness there, squeezed it, just once.

 

Alex bucked and moaned, his lips parted, head thrown back, his long throat exposed and so tempting.

 

Walter laughed, his voice a low growl.

 

"Just wait til I get you home, boy."

 

Alex licked his lips, panting, his pupils so large that his eyes appeared black.

 

"Drive fast, Walter, please," he said, whimpering. "Need you. Need you to fuck me hard."

 

Walter turned to look at him, his eyes dancing behind the dark glasses.

 

"All right. But if I get another ticket, I'm taking it out of your ass."

 

A slight intake of breath. Pink tongue disappearing for a moment, then letting itself be seen again, sliding over those succulent lips.

 

"Okay."

 

The gearshift slid smoothly into first, just the way Walter was going to slide into that sweet hot ass when he got Alex home.

 

With a wolfish grin, Walter sped away from the curb, laughing at the open mouths they left in their wake. Well, *that* would certainly give them something to talk about at the Garden Club this week.

 

He drove a seventy thousand dollar car. And he'd damned well do as he pleased in it.

 

Alex lay back in the passenger seat, his arm flung insouciantly over the low door, enjoying the sun on his face. His sable hair was perfectly cut, the imported styling gel guaranteeing the soft spikes on top stayed just the way the stylist arranged them, impervious to the breeze.

 

They were sitting at a stoplight, both men shifting impatiently in their seats and willing it to turn green, aromas and snippets of conversation drifting over to them from the patio of the cafe on the corner.

 

Alex slowly opened his eyes, engaging in a little people-watching while he waited. Damn. Wouldn't that fucking light ever change?

 

Traffic in this city was just getting ridiculous. They'd already sat through the thing twice.

 

He knew the cafe, had been there once or twice before he met Walter. He craned his neck a little, but couldn't see the sign due to the large linden tree blocking the view.

 

What the hell was it? Cafe something de something, some silly French name. He'd never liked the place. It had certainly never lived up to its pretentious name. Alex had figured that "de" was in there to justify charging sixteen dollars for a fair-to-middling roast beef sandwich.

 

Idly, he nestled back down into the buttery leather, savoring the way it cradled him. He loved riding in Walter's car. Loved how great he looked in it. 

 

Suddenly a loud voice drifted over to him.

 

"Hey, pretty boy! That your sugar daddy?"

 

The voice seemed to be coming from a table at the edge of the patio. Alex raised his head and slowly lowered his sunglasses, sliding them down his nose, already smirking.

 

The guy at the table looked like your average loser, working his way through a few bottles of imported beer, alone, with nothing better to do than harass the more fortunate.

 

"You bet!" Alex called back, flashing his most infuriating Yeah, I'm Kept, So What? smile, calculated to provoke maximum jealousy and resentment. "He gives me *plenty* of sugar. And anything else I want."

 

The guy glowered at Alex, his face darkening.

 

"Fuck you!" he shouted.

 

"Sorry," Alex answered, pushing his sunglasses back up. "You can't afford me. Bye!" he shouted, waving as the light turned green at last and Walter floored it. Their laughter floated back to the man on a cloud of exhaust.

 

***

 

The door of the penthouse closed behind them. Walter watched as Alex bent over to put his shopping bags down beside the sofa, his beautiful ass on display. Walking over to him and taking those perfect cheeks in both hands, he squeezed them tightly, making Alex stiffen and groan with pleasure. He reached one hand back and wrapped it around Walter's neck.

 

"Sugar daddy, hm?" Walter said, his voice pitched in that alpha male timbre that turned Alex's knees to jelly.

 

"Yeah," Alex breathed, his eyes half-shut, his breath quickening. He leaned his head back against Walter's shoulder, exposing the tender and vulnerable juncture of neck and shoulder, making it easier for the bigger man to lean down and bite, gently at first, then harder. Alex writhed and panted, his mouth open, his cock pressing hard against his fly. Walter shifted and pressed closer to him, one arm anchoring him tightly around the waist, his own cock hard and pressing against Alex's luscious ass. "So gimme some sugar, Daddy..."

 

Walter laughed and picked Alex up, swinging him effortlessly over his shoulder. Alex yelped as a hard swat landed on the seat of his pants, but the delicious heat Walter's hand left behind made him wriggle with excitement as Walter carried him up the spiral staircase that led to the master bedroom.

 

Alex was dropped unceremoniously on the huge custom-built bed. Walter stood over him, slowly unbuttoning his own shirt, toeing off his shoes.

 

"Get those clothes off, boy."

 

Eagerly, Alex tore off his shirt, quickly stripped himself of his shoes, pants and socks, strewing them in a careless circle around the bed. Wearing nothing but green silk boxers, he stretched sensuously, one finger circling a dusky pink nipple lazily.

 

"I'm ready," he said, his voice honeyed and seductive. "Want you so bad. Please don't make me wait."

 

Walter growled and pounced. Alex found himself on his stomach, pressed flat under one hundred eighty pounds of solid muscle, Walter's hot breath against his ear, one of Walter's big hands sliding under the silk of his boxers, caressing his ass.

 

"So," Walter whispered, kissing the back of Alex's neck, pausing to nip and bite, catching the soft skin gently between his teeth. "How much is today's bill?"

 

The green boxers landed in a heap on the floor.

 

"Mmmm?" Alex murmured into the pillow, rocking his hips up, making his ass stick out, rubbing it shamelessly against Walter. "Fuck me, please, Walter..."

 

"How much?" Walter asked again, nibbling his way down Alex's spine. God, his skin was like velvet. He grinned into the small of Alex's back. Of course the money made no difference. He could afford damn near anything either of them wanted. But it was always fun to play this little scene out, for both of them.

 

"I don't know," Alex breathed, his mind gone hazy with lust. "I...oh God, Walter, I'm gonna come if you keep doing that!"

 

Walter removed his tongue from Alex's ass long enough to sink his teeth into one creamy cheek. Alex cried out and ground himself against the mattress, earning himself a bright red handprint to go with the bite mark.

 

"You come before I say so, boy, and you won't sit down for a week."

 

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmyes..." Alex whimpered, unable to resist one more thrust into the Egyptian cotton sheets, so heavenly against his skin.

 

Another resounding smack, this time to the other cheek.

 

"Ow!" Alex yelped, reaching back to rub and quickly finding his hand pinned against his back. "Yes, sir."

 

"That's better," Walter said, releasing Alex's hand and resuming his exploration of Alex's body, touching and tasting as he pleased. "Now, what did you do today and what is it going to cost me?"

 

Alex laughed, a musical sound that ended with a strangled cry as Walter lifted him onto his knees and went to work on his balls.

 

"I...I don't..." Alex gasped, his hands fisting in the sheets. He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to string a coherent sentence together while Walter drove him to the very edge of sanity with lips and tongue. 

 

Walter loved to torture him like this. 

 

"I...ohsweetjesusWalter! Ah...dry cleaners...our tuxes...Friday night...that-that was sixty. I...OH WALTER PLEASE! Uh...ohGodohGod...yes...like that...there...uhhhnnnnnn..."

 

"What else, Alex?" Walter asked innocently, holding Alex firmly in place, his thumb pressing against the tiny opening. Alex tried to backpedal, to impale himself on Walter's thumb, but Walter simply placed his hand over one of the crimson handprints decorating Alex's otherwise pale bottom. 

 

Alex got the message and stilled, his head and shoulders pressed into the mattress.

 

The thumb pressed in ever so slightly. Walter's mouth returned to Alex's balls, the tongue lightly flicking, teasing the delicate sac.

 

Alex raised his head, his eyes opening wide.

 

"GOD WALTER!"

 

"Tell me." The voice was low, amused, implacable.

 

Alex dropped his head back down and began to babble as Walter's tongue continued its insidious, unstoppable torture.

 

"Oh GodWalterohJesuspleasepleaseplease...oh...l-lunch...I had lunch w-with Rodney." A dry click as Alex swallowed, took a deep breath. "At Mykonos. I paid...his...OH! A hundred and ten plus tip...his birthday is...birthday is next week...ohGodohGod...Walterplease...uhhnnnn...w-went to the salon...the salon. That's it."

 

He buried his head in his crossed arms, his legs trembling as Walter marked a slow wet trail back up to his ass, his tongue circling Alex's anus, teeth scraping the skin ever so slightly.

 

Alex's whimper was one of genuine anguish.

 

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease..."

 

Walter laughed again, gripping Alex's hips tightly, burying his face in Alex's ass, pressing his tongue inside.

 

Alex screamed.

 

Walter withdrew, pleased to see the light sheen of sweat that had broken out across Alex's back. He smiled. He was so hard on his boy.

 

A pinch to the undercurve of one firm buttock got Alex's attention back to the matter at hand.

 

"What did you do at the salon?" Walter asked, using his hands to spread Alex's legs further apart, trailing his fingers along the soft skin of his inner thighs.

 

"Uh...ah...m-massage, citrus massage. Haircut...style..."

 

"Francesca?" Walter asked, ducking between Alex's legs to lick, just once, at the head of Alex's cock, tasting the wetness there.

 

"GOD!" Alex screamed, pounding the mattress. "Francesca! Yes, Francesca!"

 

"And?" Walter coaxed, stroking the long tanned back idly.

 

"Uhh...Jesus, Walter, I can't...I...nails, my nails...I had a manicure, a pedicure-"

 

Walter looked down, lifted one twitching bare foot, examined the toes with interest. They did indeed look good enough to eat, nails clipped, shaped and shining. He mouthed one experimentally, tickling it with his tongue. Alex's response was emphatic.

 

"OHHGOD...andandand...I...champagne, they always give me champagne but I think it's INCLUDED-"

 

Walter chuckled around a mouthful of Alex's right buttcheek.

 

Alex panted, his mouth open wide, straining for oxygen.

 

"I...ohWalter...don't...please don't stop...I...seaweed wrap, they did a seaweed wrap...and a caviar scrub...and a...a...can't...Walter yes...YES...bronzer...there was bronzer...and...and..." he trailed off, drawing a blank. Walter licked his way around Alex's anus, wetting the skin thoroughly, and then blew on it.

 

Alex jumped a mile.

 

"SHIT WALTER!"

 

He could feel Walter grinning. The man could keep this up for hours. Once Alex had passed out and slept twelve hours straight after a session like this.

 

Sweating, his cock threatening imminent implosion, Alex tried to get the words out.

 

"I don't think...I don't think there was anything else...wait..." he wailed as Walter reached around him and began pinching his nipples, tweaking the tiny nubs until they stood straight out, hard and aching.

 

"Yesss?" Walter said evilly. "What else?"

 

Abruptly, Alex found himself on his back, his legs thrown wide. He screamed again as Walter's mouth descended on his cock, swallowing it whole.

 

"HONEYSUCKLE!" Alex shrieked. "Honeysuckle facial! The total was...OH MY GOD WALTER! SUCK ME!" He panted and writhed, digging his heels into the mattress.

 

Walter looked up and grinned, his lips swollen and wet.

 

"The total?" he asked innocently.

 

Alex gaped at him in disbelief. His cock stood like a sentinel between them, purple and engorged, so hard it hurt.

 

"Please Walter!"

 

Walter moved away, sitting back on his haunches. 

 

"Oh pleasepleaseplease don't do this don't please," Alex babbled. "Please Walter!"

 

Walter watched him, watched his hands fluttering like trapped birds, knowing he wouldn't dare touch himself.

 

Alex arched his back, desperate for Walter's hands, his mouth.

 

"Nine hundred! I think the salon was nine hundred counting everything I bought!"

 

Walter smiled contentedly. Alex was definitely a responsive lover. Very responsive.

 

"And what did you buy?" he asked, his tone pleasant and interested.

 

"OH GOD!" Alex screamed, his arms over his face. He was close to tears.

 

"Never mind," Walter said, lying down on top of Alex. "You can show me later."

 

Alex heaved a sigh of relief, his muscles twitching.

 

"My sweet honeysuckle boy," Walter said, biting a nipple lightly. He inhaled deeply, savoring the clean scent of his lover's freshly scrubbed and pampered skin. "My Alex."

 

"Walter," Alex gasped, his breath seeming to have deserted him.

 

Walter moved his hand down between them, gripping Alex's cock lightly.

 

"Oh yes pleasepleaseplease-" Alex begged.

 

Walter laughed again, delighting in Alex's all-too-temporary distress. 

 

"You're a bad boy, Alex."

 

Green eyes, heavy and sex-stupid, opened wide.

 

"Wha-?" Alex breathed.

 

Walter released Alex's cock, moved up along that lean naked body, draping himself over it. He fastened his teeth on Alex's neck.

 

Alex howled like a tomcat.

 

"Naughty..." Walter repeated, biting down on another spot and sucking, marking that flawless flesh as his own. "Such a bad boy. Such an insatiable little slut. Gonna have to punish you."

 

"GodohGod," Alex gasped, sucking in air. "Yes. Bad. Yes, Walter."

 

"Brat," Walter growled, licking and kissing his way down Alex's chest and stomach, leaving a trail of marks of possession along the tanned skin. "Spoiled brat...need me to teach you a lesson."

 

Alex turned his head to the side, his hands now gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles were white. He panted through his open mouth, his hips twitching, his cock still throbbing and maddeningly untouched. He bit his lip and whimpered, knowing Walter wouldn't let him come until he was good and ready. 

 

"Oh...Walter...yes..."

 

"Naughty," Walter said again, moving back up to Alex's head, his face close to Alex's ear. "Bad, bad boy. Gonna have to spank that sweet ass of yours."

 

"Yes..." Alex moaned, his eyelashes fluttering. His chest rose and fell rapidly, beads of sweat sparkling in the dim light. "Want...I want..."

 

"What do you want?" Walter demanded gruffly, his eyes devouring his lover's naked body. God, he was beautiful like this. Spread open and waiting for him, waiting to be taken, willing for whatever Walter wanted to give.

 

"I...ohhh..."Alex moaned, licking his lips. "Punish me. Spank me. Spank me hard and then flip me over and fuck me through the mattress."

 

"What's the magic word, little boy?" Walter purred, smiling like the cat that got into the cream. "Or do I need to give you extra punishment for impudence?"

 

"PLEASE!" Alex screamed, twisting under Walter, not sure how much more he could take. "Please, sir. Please punish me. Punish me and then take me, make me yours all over again. Own me. Please."

 

Walter had pushed himself to the limit of endurance as well. He wasn't sure how much more either of them could take. In one smooth motion, he sat up and lifted Alex face down across his lap, positioning Alex's rock-hard cock between his own thighs, making sure nothing touched it. Alex protested and earned himself a preliminary swat, hard enough to make his eyes water.

 

"Owww, Walter," he pouted. "Not so hard, baby."

 

"Bad boy," Walter admonished, raising his hand and bringing it down smartly, reddening one exquisite bare mound. "My bad boy."

 

Alex gritted his teeth. It hurt. It hurt so good, the sting giving way to warmth that seemed to drain right into his cock.

 

"More, harder," he whined, his eyes closed tight. "Spank me, Daddy, please."

 

The use of the endearment made Walter's own cock remind him just how urgently its presence was required in the tight hot ass below.

 

He brought his hand down rapidly, painting both cheeks crimson.

 

"You've had this coming a long time, brat," he said between smacks. "A long time. This is what happens to bad boys."

 

He spanked hard and steadily, covering each cheek evenly before moving back to the other. Alex wriggled and moaned, his cries becoming more and more convincing as his bottom began to throb in earnest.

 

"Are you going to be good, Alex? Are you going to be good so Daddy doesn't have to spank his boy?"

 

Alex sobbed softly, so close to coming he scarcely dared to breathe. Coming without permission would take this session to the next level and fast.

 

"Yes! Yes!" he cried, his voice ragged. "I'll be good, I promise!"

 

"Good," Walter said, dropping a kiss on each hot red cheek. "I'm going to fuck you now, Alex. Get ready for me."

 

Mewling with need, Alex scrambled off of Walter's lap and fumbled in the nighttable drawer. He liberally coated two fingers of one hand with lube, then, balanced on his other hand and his knees, reached behind himself. He began lubing and stretching his opening, knowing Walter loved to watch. Alex spread his legs wider, pushed his fingers farther in, moaning with arousal. Walter's eyes glittered as he watched from the end of the bed. When Alex added a third finger and began to fuck himself hard on them, Walter could wait no longer.

 

"Now!" he shouted, his voice deep and commanding.

 

Alex made a sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in the pillow, dropping his shoulders down. He felt Walter kneeling behind him, felt Walter's large hands close around his wrists. Walter brought Alex's hands up and placed them on the back of Alex's neck.

 

"Interlock your fingers," he growled.

 

Alex obeyed, his hands clasped tightly on the back of his neck.

 

"Don't move them."

 

"Yes, sir," Alex answered, his voice muffled slightly.

 

Walter grasped Alex's hips and pulled him closer, positioning his cock at the tight opening. Alex took a deep breath. His Walter was big. Very big. But despite the initial burn, the sensation of being so totally filled was one he could never get enough of.

 

Alex had lubed himself well. 

 

"Good boy."

 

Walter smiled down at him. Then, with a cry and one powerful thrust, he buried himself in Alex to the hilt.

 

Alex caught his breath, tensed for a moment, and then stilled. His hips began to rock back and forth in time to Walter's thrusts, sweat dampening his hair, his cries becoming more and more urgent.

 

Walter rode him hard, glorying in the way he arched and shuddered and gasped, feeling his own orgasm building like a summer thunderstorm.

 

Beneath him, Alex was nearing his own climax, desperately trying to form the words, to beg for release as Walter relentlessly pounded into him.

 

"Please Walter," Alex begged, his voice hoarse. "Let me come. Please Walter let me come-"

 

"Come, Alex," Walter commanded.

 

Alex screamed and shot explosively, spattering his own belly and thighs with come. A few seconds later Walter followed, shouting his own completion, leaving his fingerprints on Alex's narrow hips.

 

Panting, sweating, completely sated, Walter fell beside Alex, gathering his boy into his arms and spooning up behind him, nuzzling into the dark, sweat-dampened hair. Alex wrapped his arms around Walter's, leaned back with a sigh. They lay silently for a moment, their heart rates slowly returning to normal.

 

"Love you," Alex whispered at last, burrowing further into Walter's embrace. "Thank you for this. For everything."

 

"Love you too," Walter answered. "My bad, beautiful boy."

 

Alex turned his head, clear green eyes wide, a sly smile on his face.

 

"I forgot to mention my stop at Cartier."

 

 

End

 

This is for you, Gaby. 

 

Author's Note: This story was inspired by my drive in to work about two weeks ago. I was sitting at a stoplight behind a gorgeous dark blue Mercedes convertible. The man in the driver's seat was older, salt and pepper hair, sunglasses, big gold watch on his wrist. The passenger was a younger man, impeccably styled dark hair, matching sunglasses, and when he turned his head I saw he had a little tip-tilted nose that reminded me of someone we know... They looked to me like the very image of a sugar daddy and his pretty plaything. My fevered imagination took over, spinning all sorts of delicious fantasies, and here we are.


	2. Sugar Daddy II:  Shameless in Seattle

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Rating: Adult for m/m spanking, language, sex

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: They followed me home. Can I keep them?

Warnings: m/m interaction, language, a little Daddy/boy play, s-e-x and spanking. And those are just the good points. 

Status: New/Series. 

Thanks: To Elizabeth, Ursula and Belladonna for early critiques.

Summary: Shameless PWP. More of Walter and his boy.

Dedication: To my friends. Love you all.

Author's Note: Alex, the spanking in this story is just for you. 

 

 

Sugar Daddy II: Shameless in Seattle

 

by Lorelei

 

Walter took the two glasses of champagne from the flight attendant and thanked her. He placed one of the glasses on the tray table in front of Alex. Alex grunted and continued flipping through the in-flight magazine. Failing to find anything of interest in it, he stuffed it back in its pouch and settled back into the big leather seat, his eyes closed, his fingers feeling for the volume control on his CD player and turning it up.

 

Walter let him get away with it for a minute. Then he reached over and gently pulled one of the earphones away from Alex's head. The rock music blared, the tinny, distorted sound loud in the first-class cabin.

 

"Are you going to sulk all the way to Seattle?" Walter asked.

 

Alex slumped down further in his seat, punching the off button on his CD player and tugging his earphones down to rest around his neck.

 

"I'm not sulking."

 

"You haven't said three words since we got on the plane."

 

"I just did."

 

Walter sighed in exasperation.

 

"Smart ass."

 

Alex looked up and smiled for the first time that morning, looking up at Walter coquettishly through his eyelashes.

 

"Wanna take me into the bathroom and spank me? Teach me what happens to bad little boys who don't behave?"

 

Walter laughed, careful to keep his voice low so the other passengers couldn't hear.

 

"I don't think so. You'd enjoy it way too much. Besides, I'd hate to ruin your bad mood after you've worked so hard on it all morning."

 

A hand slid slyly along Walter's thigh, fingers moving deftly toward his crotch.

 

"Are you sure?" Alex purred. "We could join the Mile High Club."

 

Walter cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, quickly covering his lap with his copy of Forbes. He placed Alex's hand firmly on the armrest between them and gave him a stern look.

 

"We already did. On the Concorde. Remember?"

 

Alex grinned despite himself.

 

"Ahhhh," he sighed. "Fucking at the speed of sound." He reached for Walter's thigh again with a throaty chuckle. "*Everything's* faster on the Concorde."

 

Walter replaced Alex's hand again, smacking it lightly as he did. Alex poked his lip out again and gazed at Walter with mock-wounded eyes.

 

"Stop trying to distract me," Walter admonished, trying to ignore the warmth Alex's brief touch had ignited. "Tell me what's wrong."

 

Alex sighed and shrugged, staring out of the small window at the tops of the clouds. He chewed his lip for a moment before he spoke.

 

"Boring business trip. You'll be busy with meetings and lunches and we won't get to spend any time together."

 

"My business is very important, Alex. You know that."

 

Alex nodded, looking away guiltily.

 

"I know. I'm being a spoiled brat. I'm sorry."

 

Walter smiled, unable to resist dropping a kiss on Alex's head.

 

"It's all right. I know these trips are boring for you. And I know you're disappointed about our holiday."

 

Alex looked down, his cheeks flushing. Aha, Walter thought. 

 

"It's okay," Alex mumbled. "We can go to the beach another time."

 

Walter took Alex's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

 

"Believe me, Alex. I'd much rather be sunning myself on the beach with you than sitting through meetings and reading contracts. But this deal is extremely important. And I promise," he paused and tilted Alex's face up for a proper kiss, "even though business must come before pleasure, there will be pleasure." Alex sighed and squirmed a little in his seat as Walter kissed him again, hard and deep. Walter looked into Alex's eyes and smiled. "*Lots* of pleasure."

 

***

 

The suite was on the top floor of the finest hotel in Seattle. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over Puget Sound. The bed was huge, swathed in rich emerald green. Walter sat on the edge of it, humming to himself as he finalized his schedule for the following day. Damn, he thought. Two meetings in the morning, two more in the afternoon, then back to the hotel to get ready for the black-tie affair at the client's palatial home on Bainbridge Island. He glanced up at their tuxedos, hanging neatly pressed and ready for tomorrow night. Alex hated attending client parties. He almost always ended up bored, surrounded by grey-haired captains of industry and their emaciated, impeccably-coiffed wives. He'd mingle for the accepted length of time and then usually end up off in the corner, munching listlessly on crab canapes, sending Walter signals with increasingly pained green eyes, silently begging him to *please* get them the hell out of this mausoleum, already.

 

Walter always felt sorry for Alex on these occasions, but refused to leave him home. He did have to admit to himself, part of it was that he loved to show Alex off. He had a gorgeous young lover. Why shouldn't the world know it? Walter refused to hide who he was. He'd be damned if he was going to conform to anyone's idea of what the CEO of an international corporation should be. 

 

Besides, he thought, it was good for Alex to have as much exposure to different people as possible, to learn that there was more to life than fast cars, expensive clothes and sunbathing in Ibiza. He needed to learn how to communicate with people outside his own crowd. Walter listened to the splashing sounds coming from the bathroom as Alex showered. Alex would hate the party but he'd go, for Walter's sake. 

 

Walter closed up his laptop and lay back on the bed, crossing his arms under his head. He should do something special for Alex, to reward him for coming along on the business trip and enduring the party. Something to cheer him up, something fun. Walter grinned. 

 

He had a feeling Alex wouldn't be the only one smiling.

 

***

 

Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Alex grumbled and turned over, burying his face in the pillow. He was dimly aware of the sound of the breakfast cart being wheeled in, of Walter speaking in a low voice as he thanked the waiter, the sound of the door closing quietly again.

 

Walter sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at the sight of the unmoving mound under the green coverlet, the tousled dark hair peeking out from under it. 

 

"Morning, sunshine," Walter said, running his fingers through Alex's hair, unable to resist the desire to touch it.

 

"Mmmph," Alex answered from the depths of the pillow.

 

Walter untied his robe and shrugged out of it. He leaned over Alex, naked, his cock already half-hard. With one hand, he drew the covers down to Alex's waist, just above the curve of his delectable ass, exposing the smooth, tanned skin of his back. Alex burrowed further into his cocoon.

 

"Just five more minutes, please, Walter."

 

Walter grinned and swatted the round butt, so enticingly outlined by the thin cotton sheets.

 

"Ow!" Alex groaned. "Okay, I'm up. I'm up."

 

Walter's grin widened.

 

"So am I."

 

Alex started to turn over, smiling sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

 

"No," Walter whispered, leaning over to kiss the back of Alex's neck. "Don't move."

 

Alex instantly froze, his eyes widening in understanding. He looked up at Walter, his eyes traveling up from the stiffening cock to the hard nipples, to the brown eyes that watched him so intensely, seeming to glow from within. Alex moaned, already gripping the sheets.

 

"Walter..."

 

"Patience, boy," Walter said, his voice low and gruff. "Ready for your breakfast?"

 

"Yes," Alex replied, almost meekly. His hips began to undulate as he sought delicious friction between his cock and the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. "Please, Walter."

 

Walter drew the sheets down further, exposing Alex's naked body entirely. Smiled down at him, his own heart quickening. That such beauty should be his and his alone. Alex whimpered a little and spread his legs. Walter laughed, one finger trailing down the back of one long thigh. Such a wanton slut his boy was. 

 

And God, Walter loved him for it.

 

Walter turned to the breakfast cart, pausing to make sure Alex's green eyes were still fixed on him, watching his every move. He lifted the silver lid of the chilled dish, relishing Alex's awed "oh!" as he did. The strawberries glistened in the morning sunlight, each one plump, red and perfect, filling the room with their heavenly aroma. Locally grown, the waiter had assured Walter. The pitcher of fresh cream stood beside the bowl, beads of condensation forming on the silver, fat drops of moisture rolling down its side.

 

"I wanted to start the day off right," Walter said playfully, selecting a berry and placing it between his own lips, savoring the explosion of flavor as he bit into it. "A nutritious breakfast is so important." He ate it slowly, making a show of it, licking the pink juice from his lips with slow sweeps of his tongue. Alex watched, mesmerized, his back already glowing with a sheen of sweat. He rocked his hips against the bed, crying out as Walter slapped his ass again.

 

"Please, Walter, you know I can't stand it when you tease me," he moaned.

 

Walter laughed.

 

"And that's why I love to do it. You're so beautiful when you've been driven half-mad with passion."

 

Alex groaned and buried his face in the pillow again, his renewed pleas muffled.

 

Walter leaned down and whispered into Alex's ear.

 

"You know, the government recommends two to four servings of fruit every day. And we can't let the government down, now can we?"

 

Gently, he tugged Alex up, arranging him in the position he wanted, with his shoulders down on the bed, his knees under him, his ass high in the air. The position alone was nearly enough to make Alex come. He clutched the pillow and waited, panting through his open mouth, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

 

Walter knelt behind Alex and then leaned forward, his body covering Alex's. Slowly, sensuously, he ran his tongue down Alex's spine, tasting the faintly salty skin, pausing here and there to nibble and bite. Alex bucked a little, trying to hold still as Walter's tongue traveled further and further towards...

 

"WALTER!" Alex yelped as Walter's tongue delved inside him.

 

Walter looked up and grinned.

 

"Hold still, boy," he growled. "I've got a big day ahead and I need a good breakfast."

 

Alex waited, wondering what Walter was up to, unconsciously spreading his legs wider at the sound of that alpha male rumble. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lips parted, his own breath loud in his ears.

 

Walter reached for the bowl and chose another strawberry, this one even more pristine and plump than the first. He trailed it down Alex's back, watching as the muscles jumped and twitched like a cat's, listening to Alex's impassioned whimpers.

 

"It's cold, isn't it?" Walter wondered aloud. "Better warm it up then."

 

Walter spread Alex's cheeks with one hand, bringing the strawberry close with the other. He swirled the strawberry around Alex's tight hole and then gently pushed it in, leaving the top of the berry and its green stem exposed.

 

"Oh!" Alex gasped, his eyes wide, clutching two sweaty handfuls of sheet. "Oh...God Walter...what are you-"

 

Walter chuckled, the sound rich and low in the morning stillness. Alex's breath came in hoarse sobs, sweat trickled down his spine, every muscle trembled. He felt large hands grasping his buttocks, felt Walter close, so close. Felt the heat of him on his bare skin. 

 

Gently, ever so gently, Walter pressed his face against Alex's crack, teasing at the strawberry with lips and tongue.

 

The muscles in Alex's neck stood out like cords as he began to thrash, his cock hard and dripping. 

 

"FUCK, Walter!"

 

"Not til I'm ready, little boy."

 

Walter ate the berry, taking his time, licking and sucking as he went. Pink juice dripped down his chin, trickled down the inside of Alex's thighs.

 

Finally, the berry was gone and Alex slumped, exhausted, panting into the pillow.

 

Walter's smile was distinctly predatory as he reached for another strawberry. Alex turned his head, his wide eyes following Walter's fingers as they disappeared behind him again with the fat red berry.

 

"Ohhhh..." Alex moaned, shivering with pleasure, unable to stop himself from reaching for his cock.

 

The resulting slap across his right buttcheek was like a pistol-shot in the quiet room.

 

"OhGodWalterpleaseletme-" Alex gasped, his mouth open, his breath harsh and desperate. "Please oh please let me touch it...let me..."

 

"No," Walter said, his tone one of finality. "Hands on the headboard and leave them there. Touch your cock again without permission and I'll stop."

 

Mewling, Alex wrapped both hands around the top of the headboard and hung on for dear life. 

 

Walter slid the second berry in, twisting it, delighting in the cries it elicited from his gorgeous lover. He paused, settling back on his heels and just letting his eyes sweep over Alex's naked flesh, so open to him, so eager to be touched. The pale hands clinging to the dark wood of the headboard, practically hanging from it. The dark head bent in submission, the shoulders low, the exquisite ass like marble shaped by a master sculptor, the cheeks smooth and unblemished, and between them the red berry peeking out like a playful tongue, Alex's pink asshole stretched around it, accepting it, holding it in place for Walter's pleasure.

 

Walter reached toward the cart again, giving Alex a playful swat, on the left cheek this time.

 

"Up," he commanded. "I want it nice and high."

 

His lips moving in an almost constant litany of pleas almost too low to hear, Alex obeyed, shifting his weight and moving his knees farther apart, thrusting his ass up, wanting Walter to see all of him, to know that it all belonged to him, every part of him.

 

"Can't have strawberries without cream," Walter remarked, tipping the silver pitcher, drizzling the thick sweet cream over those round cheeks, watching as it ran slowly, langorously over Alex's soft skin. Alex jumped a little as the cold liquid touched him, then settled, his knuckes white where he gripped the headboard.

 

Walter licked his lips, tipping the pitcher again and pouring a generous dollop of cream directly over Alex's crack, letting the cream drizzle down between his cheeks.

 

"Ohhhhhh Walter!" Alex gasped, then went rigid as Walter swooped in to devour him again, his tongue hot and probing, lapping up the thick cream, toying with the berry inside him before biting and sucking it out.

 

Alex sobbed and shuddered, his balls hanging heavy and swollen between his legs, every nerve ending in his body seeming to have migrated to his ass and his cock.

 

"Walter pleeeeeeeeeeeease I need to come please I need to please let me-"

 

"Not yet," Walter said, looking up briefly before renewing his assault on Alex's ass, his tongue wandering dangerously close to the perineum, his fingers brushing against Alex's balls.

 

"PLEASE WALTER!" Alex shouted, bucking wildly for a moment before settling, relieved, as Walter's hands found his hips and held him still, steadying him.

 

"Settle down, boy," Walter growled as he selected another berry, managing to sound gruff despite his smile. "I think I like eating my breakfast like this." He turned his attention back to Alex's ass, then paused. Damn, he'd gotten so wrapped up in what he was doing, he'd forgotten to feed his lover. Poor boy must be starving. He grinned and dunked the strawberry in the pitcher of cream and leaned up, holding the berry to Alex's lips, painting them with the cream. Had to stifle a groan himself as that little cat's tongue crept out and licked away every trace of the cream, as those soft pink lips parted to accept the offering, white teeth biting deep, sweet pink juice dripping down his chin, begging to be licked away.

 

Walter obliged.

 

He fed Alex several more strawberries, making sure to coat them liberally with cream, teasing Alex with them, making him beg for them.

 

"Damn," Walter said softly, settling back with a gleam in his eye. "Feeding you got my appetite worked up all over again. Good thing I made sure to order an extra quart of strawberries."

 

Alex whimpered.

 

***

 

The party was every bit as stultifying as Alex had feared it would be. He followed Walter as the client led him around, introducing them both to his partners and associates. Alex smiled and murmured politely, shaking hands, ignoring the knowing looks exchanged as these well-heeled movers and shakers got a look at Walter Skinner's pretty boy companion. Alex rolled his eyes and snorted into his drink as he overheard the client's wife refer to him as Walter's "assistant". 

 

Breeders, he thought contemptuously. Whatever gets you through the night, honey. I'm always happy to assist him in getting his cock up my ass, but he usually handles it just fine on his own.

 

Knowing, as always, the right moment to fade into the crowd so Walter could work, Alex moved over to the lavish buffet and snagged a plump pink shrimp, watching as Walter networked, moving smoothly amongst the partygoers with long-practiced ease, giving and receiving many handshakes and slaps on the back. He was genial to the men, deferential to their wives, and remarked favorably on the food, the view of the Sound from the patio and the Mariners' most recent game.

 

Alex watched admiringly, shaking his head in wonder. Never let it be said that Walter didn't work for his money. Having to schmooze and press the flesh with these...these pod people. All that horrible false bonhomie and ribald jokes and "check out the anniversary ring I got for Betty, didja ever see a rock like that?" Alex shuddered. Ten minutes with these people and he was ready to sell his soul for a one-way ticket to South Beach.

 

Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by a tug at his sleeve. Oh God. One of the Wives, a death's head grin beneath her sprayed and shellacked hair, a cosmopolitan clutched in one bony hand, the other snaking around to take Alex's arm.

 

"Now what's a handsome young man like you doing over here all by your lonesome?" she said, standing way too close, her breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

 

Alex smiled politely, already mentally making a plan of escape.

 

"You're with Mr. Skinner, aren't you?" she continued, undaunted by Alex's attempts to disengage his arm from her claws. "It's Alec, isn't it?" 

 

"Yes, I am," Alex answered politely. "And it's Alex."

 

"*Well*, Alex," she said breathlessly, towing him forcibly away from the buffet table and over to a nearby sofa. "I *must* get your advice. We're redoing the summer house and I am *beside* myself. Now, what do you think about these?" She produced a book of fabric samples seemingly out of nowhere, shoving it under Alex's nose.

 

Alex gaped at her. For Christ's sake, he thought. Another straight woman who thought that because he was gay, he was a natural expert at everything from carpet to crown molding.

 

Alex held her eyes with his for a long moment. Waited a good long time before speaking.

 

"Orange," he breathed at last.

 

"O-orange?" she asked, gazing at him as though he were the Oracle of Delphi.

 

"Orange," Alex repeated, looking around the room and then leaning forward conspiratorially. "Orange is going to be *huge* this year. Walter and I just came from Paris and *everything* was orange. The brighter the better. It's just so *warm*. It just says 'look at me!'" Alex allowed himself an uncharacteristically flamboyant flick of the wrist, continuing on airily. "Karl Lagerfeld just did *his* summer place *entirely* in orange. David Bowie's doing it, Donatella Versace...believe me when I tell you, orange is the new white."

 

"Orange," she whispered. "Yes. Orange."

 

Alex stood.

 

"Please do excuse me," he said, flashing her his most irresistible smile. "I really must find Walter. Men. Can't turn your back on them for a second."

 

"Oh, Alex," she giggled. "But wait! What shall I do about the trim? How to accent the orange? I want to bring it out in all its glory."

 

Alex paused, his smile becoming decidedly evil.

 

"Seafoam," he said, deadpan. "Trust me."

 

"Seafoam," she repeated reverently, watching Alex's back as he disappeared into the crowd.

 

***

 

Alex sprawled in the back of the limo, his tie loosened, drinking Dom straight out of the bottle.

 

"God," he groaned, wiping his mouth carelessly on his sleeve. "I just can't live through another one of those parties, Walter. Those people are worse than the Stepford Wives."

 

Walter laughed, tugging Alex so that the younger man was reclining against his chest, his long legs stretched across the spacious leather seat. He carded his fingers through Alex's soft hair, making Alex groan with pleasure.

 

"And may I say, you were on your best behavior tonight. Don't think I don't appreciate it, Alex. Having you with me is the only way I get through those awful things."

 

Alex turned his head and smiled angelically up at Walter.

 

"Why, thank you, Walter. And when you close this deal tomorrow and make another million, you can spend every penny of it on me."

 

Walter leaned down and bit a soft earlobe gently.

 

"Don't think I won't," he growled. Alex laughed and wriggled happily against Walter.

 

"You and Dittmeyer's wife sure seemed to hit it off. What were you chatting about?"

 

Alex choked on his champagne.

 

"Oh, this and that. You never know, we might get an invitation to their summer house." He giggled around the bottle.

 

"Oh, that's nice," Walter said absently. "Ah, there's the hotel. Let's get upstairs and get changed."

 

"Changed?" Alex asked, sitting up. "For what?"

 

"Well," Walter said, cupping the back of Alex's head and bringing him close for a kiss, "you've been so patient with me on this trip, going to the party and making small talk with those horrid people, I wanted to give you a reward."

 

"What is it?" Alex asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

 

"Well," Walter said, unable to resist a self-satisfied smile, "what would you say to a night at the hottest gay club in Seattle?"

 

Alex's mouth fell open. Walter had to admit, he loved that look on Alex.

 

"You...you mean it?" Alex gasped, throwing his arms around Walter. "But you *hate* going to clubs!"

 

"Seeing you happy makes me happy," Walter answered as the limousine rolled to a stop in front of the hotel. "I know it's been a while since we've been out dancing. I think we could both do with a little fun."

 

Alex's happy grin told Walter he'd chosen a very good reward, indeed.

 

***

 

Walter sat in an armchair in the bedroom of their hotel suite, looking out at the moonlight on the water. The soft sound of a throat clearing behind him made him turn. What he saw made his eyes widen appreciatively.

 

Alex stood, posing, his weight on one hip, thumbs hooked in the beltloops of his tight jeans. No, Walter thought. Not tight. Form-fitting. The faded denim hugged every curve, cupping the eye-catching bulge in front, molding the exquisitely shaped ass in the back, and showing off the long, lean legs perfectly. Walter's eyes moved up along that body he knew and loved so well, taking in the leather bracelet on one wrist, the dark green shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show off a little of that smooth, bare chest, the gold stud twinkling in one earlobe, the dark hair styled just so, falling rakishly over one eye and making Alex look even younger and more desirable, something Walter hadn't thought possible.

 

A low, hungry growl escaped Walter as he stood and moved forward, unable to tear his eyes away from this unbearably sexy man. This man that was *his*.

 

Alex grinned as Walter took him in his arms and kissed him, his tongue rough and hot, probing Alex's mouth, his teeth nibbling at Alex's plush bottom lip.

 

"So, I take it you like the outfit?" Alex asked mischievously, one hand wandering down to cup Walter's ass. He smiled. Walter wasn't the only one with a lover who could fill out a pair of jeans. 

 

"Yes," Walter said, kissing his way along Alex's jawline. "And so will every other man in Seattle."

 

Alex looked into Walter's eyes, his expression suddenly serious

 

"There's only one man who matters."

 

Walter smiled, grabbing Alex roughly. Alex gasped and bucked his hips against Walter's. God, he loved it when Walter got forceful.

 

"Keep it that way, boy," Walter growled, squeezing one round buttcheek hard. "You're mine. No one else touches you."

 

"No," Alex breathed, his color high, his eyes glowing. He looked almost dazed, clinging to those strong arms that encircled him, held him tight. "No one else."

 

Walter leaned down, nuzzling Alex's neck, his voice muffled against that hot, soft skin. 

 

"I want everyone there tonight to know you're mine," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want everyone who sees you to know you belong to me."

 

Alex tilted his head back, exposing his white throat, panting now, instantly hard, his erection pushing painfully against the tight denim.

 

"Yes," he gasped, "yes, Walter. Do it."

 

Walter kissed the tender juncture of neck and shoulder, nipping it gently and then sucking it, gently at first, then harder, as Alex moaned in his arms.

 

At last, Walter stood back, taking Alex by the hand and leading him over to the mirror. He stood behind Alex, his arms wrapped around him. Two pairs of eyes were reflected in the mirror, both staring at the dark purple mark on Alex's white skin.

 

"Mine," Walter growled again, feeling almost primitive in his desire to show the world that the beautiful young man in his arms was *his*.

 

"Yours," Alex whispered, one hand reaching up, fingers trailing lightly over Walter's mark. "Love your mark on me. Love everyone knowing I'm yours. That I'm your boy."

 

Walter smiled, turning around for another searing kiss.

 

"Let's go."

 

***

 

On a Friday night, there was only one place that all of gay Seattle wanted to see and be seen: The Blue Door. Tucked away in the warehouse district, the delights that awaited those lucky enough to be allowed past the club's trademark giant electric blue door were the stuff of legend.

 

A crowd of eager clubgoers waited impatiently behind the velvet ropes in front of the club. Each of them seemed to be doing his best to outdo the others to attract the doorman's attention and charm his way into paradise. Walter and Alex stood off to one side, waiting to be noticed. They didn't have to wait long. The doorman's eye fell on them and he beckoned to them, pointing to the door. They moved past the crowd and slipped into the darkness, heedless of the resentful glares being sent their way from those left standing outside.

 

One of the young men behind the ropes sneered and angrily tossed his cigarette aside. 

 

"Shit!" he snapped at his companion, another young twinkie in a midriff tee and too much hair gel. "Why do *they* get to go in and we're stuck out here? What the fuck's so special about them?"

 

The other young man swiveled his head to look at him, his eyes wide with amazement.

 

"Fuck, Matt," he said, his tone one of awe. "Did you *see* them?"

 

Inside the club, the party was in full swing. The dance floor was packed with men, most of whom were dancing shirtless, their bare skin reflecting the flashing colored lights that stabbed randomly through the huge, dimly lit space. The music was all but impossible to resist, backed by a pounding bass beat that screamed sex. 

 

Walter was unable to hide his grin as he watched Alex, standing beside him, taking it all in with wide eyes, looking like a little boy in a toy store. Alex had seemed to undergo a transformation as soon as they walked into the club. He had a huge smile on his face. His eyes were alight with anticipation. He was already moving to the beat, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

 

Walter felt a twinge of guilt as he watched Alex, saw how happy a simple excursion to a dance club made him, and he reflected on just how long it had been since Alex had gotten to do something like this. Damn, Walter thought. Of course, his business was demanding. They had to travel frequently, and more often than not, their entertainment was pay-per-view in some strange hotel suite or a boring rubber-chicken dinner with a client. To his credit, Alex seldom complained, accepting their age difference and their nomadic lifestyle with good cheer. Walter felt a surge of love for the young man standing beside him, wearing his mark, the mark he'd begged for, like a badge of honor. Alex always said the difference in their ages didn't matter and Walter believed him. But still, Walter thought to himself, he needed to make more of an effort to do things like this for Alex more often. It had been too long since Alex had had the chance to dance the night away.

 

He leaned close to Alex's ear to make himself heard above the thundering music.

 

"Let's get a drink, all right?"

 

Alex nodded and grinned, following Walter as the larger man easily cut a path through the crowd. Their passage did not go unnoticed. Alex was a head-turner no matter what he wore, but tonight, he looked like sex on two legs and a great many admiring looks were sent his way. Alex smirked as he noticed that not all of the admiring looks were for him. Walter cut quite a figure in his tight black jeans and the black v-neck sweater that draped exquisitely over those broad, well-muscled shoulders. Grabbing on to one of Walter's beltloops and allowing himself to be towed along, Alex flashed a winning smile at the onlookers.

 

"Look all you want, boys," Alex murmured as they neared the long, curving bar that ran the length of one wall. "He's *mine*."

 

Walter and Alex found a small table on the second level, overlooking the dance floor. Both men felt the tension drain away from their bodies. They couldn't help but grin at one another, happy to have the chance to blow off some steam for a night.

 

Walter watched as Alex sipped his drink, fidgeting in his seat, his eyes drawn again and again to the dance floor. 

 

Finally, Walter took the glass out of Alex's hand and gestured toward the dance floor.

 

"Would you go on already? Enjoy yourself."

 

Alex looked down for a moment, then back up at Walter.

 

"You don't like to dance. I don't want to leave you sitting here alone."

 

Walter scoffed.

 

"I'll be fine. Besides," he said, turning his chair so that he had a better view of the dance floor, "I love watching you dance. So get down there and shake that gorgeous ass of yours."

 

A sunburst of a grin spread across Alex's face. Walter leaned forward and hooked his hand around the back of Alex's neck, pulling him close for a kiss. When he finally released Alex, the younger man's lips were red and swollen, and his eyes were gleaming. One hand crept up and absently fingered the mark on his neck, as though he could still feel the heat of Walter's mouth on his skin.

 

"Love you," Alex mouthed as he turned toward the stairs that led to the dance floor.

 

Walter smiled and stood up, turning his chair around. Sitting back down, he rested his arms on the chairback and settled in to watch the show.

 

Downstairs, Alex plunged into the gyrating crowd, quickly carving out a small space for himself. He glanced up, scanning along the railing for Walter's face. Once he found it, he blew Walter a kiss and then closed his eyes, swaying to the beat. When Alex danced, it was truly as though he entered into another world. He didn't dance for attention; hell, he'd been used to a surplus of that since he was a teenager. He danced for himself, oblivious to everyone and everything around him except the music, the driving bass line that seemed to make him move without him even realizing it.

 

The mass of sweating bodies all around, coupled with the lights overhead, quickly made the temperature on the dance floor uncomfortable. In one fluid motion, Alex stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, then continued dancing, smiling blissfully as the club's mammoth speakers began to blare his favorite song. He ignored the crowd that gathered around him, the hungry eyes on his bare skin. He danced on and on, now the center of a circle of men, each one eager to be close to him, watching his every move, the way the lights played on his skin, the way his dark, sweat-dampened hair flew about his face as he turned, the way his emerald green eyes were half-closed in ecstasy.

 

Walter watched, his cock pressing against his fly as he watched Alex dance, as he watched the other men around him, wanting him, knowing they couldn't have him. Knowing Alex belonged to him.

 

Finally, one of the men who had been watching Alex made his move, dancing closer and closer to him, until he was finally face to face with this beautiful boy who danced with such abandon. Alex grinned and turned his back on him, dancing faster, his head thrown back, delighting in the music and the way it made him feel.

 

Undaunted, the man circled around Alex, advancing as Alex moved back. Suddenly, Alex moved forward, teasing the man, their hips almost touching as they moved in sync.

 

Upstairs, Walter smiled.

 

The man's eyes lit up and he pressed forward again, his eyes never leaving Alex's. Alex glanced at him through heavy lashes, smirking as he turned again. The man circled again, dancing close, and spied the mark on Alex's neck.

 

"I saw that big guy you came in with," the man shouted over the music. "He give you that?"

 

Alex nodded, grinning, running his fingers over it. 

 

The man nodded, his eyes hungrily skimming over Alex's body, taking in the long legs, the flat stomach, the pale brown nipples.

 

"So," he shouted, "your Daddy lets you dance with other men? What else does he let you do?"

 

Alex laughed, dancing farther away from the man. He felt a presence behind him and turned to see another handsome, muscular man dancing there, moving up close. In a moment he was sandwiched between them, all three of them hip to hip, moving faster and faster to the music. Alex's eyes were closed again, his lips parted, his arms over his head, the bass seeming to become a part of him, flowing in and out of him. He could feel it in his ribcage, pulsing against him from all directions. He turned, dancing between the two men, feeling the others in a circle drawing in closer, and opened his eyes, searching for the one face he wanted to see. 

 

It wasn't true anymore that he only danced for himself. He also danced for the man who sat several feet above the dance floor, his arms resting on the back of his chair, ice melting in the untouched scotch on the table behind him.

 

Warm brown eyes met his and held them. A large hand rose, pressed itself against Walter's heart. 

 

Alex stared into Walter's eyes and repeated the gesture, pressing his own hand against his heart. Then he laughed again and turned, dancing, feeling the other eyes on him, feeling the men pressing close, not actually daring to touch him, but wanting to. Oh, how they wanted to. He could feel their desire, could see their lips moving as they told one another what they wanted to do to him.

 

There had been a time when any one of them could have had him. A time when a night at the clubs meant a ride in a strange car, waking up in a strange bed, then going back to his small empty apartment alone.

 

Not anymore. Now he belonged to someone. 

 

Not just someone. Walter. He belonged to Walter.

 

Alex looked up at Walter, at the muscular arms and shoulders, the long legs straddling the chair, one black boot visible under the railing. Alex's pink tongue darted out, moistened his suddenly dry lips, green eyes shining as he gazed up at the man he loved. The men who danced around Alex, unwilling to give up hope despite the odds, had no idea just what they were up against. They never had a chance. To Alex, there was simply no other man in the room, hell, in the world. Walter was all he saw and all he wanted to see, forever.

 

***

 

The moment the door to their suite closed behind them, Walter found himself with both arms full of a very happy, very turned-on Alex.

 

"Thank you, Walter," Alex said between kisses, as Walter lifted him off his feet and conveyed him to the bedroom. "That was the best. I want to go back there sometime."

 

"Next time we're in town, I promise," Walter said with a smile, setting Alex down beside the bed and helping Alex strip off his shirt. Alex took a swig from the bottle of water he'd bought at the bar and set it down on the bedside table. He kicked off his boots and then balanced precariously on first one leg and then the other, taking off his socks. Walter enjoyed the sight of his beautiful boy, exhausted from a night of dancing, wearing nothing but a pair of skintight jeans, his hair mussed, his green eyes still sparkling with happiness. Walter thought of all the men who had danced with Alex that night. They had all wanted him, had all fantasized for a moment that they would wake up next to him. But Walter was the one who took him home. Who would always take him home.

 

Alex turned, reaching for the top button of his jeans, when strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him close against a broad chest.

 

"You were so beautiful tonight," Walter whispered in Alex's ear, the low pitch of his voice already making Alex's heartbeat quicken. "They all wanted you. Everyone who saw you."

 

Alex reached back, caressing Walter's cheek with one hand.

 

"But none of them could have me," he said quietly, leaning his head back against Walter's chest, moaning a little as one of Walter's hands strayed down to his waist, began toying with the waistband of his jeans. "No one but you, Walter. I belong to you."

 

"I know," Walter murmured into Alex's hair. "That's part of what makes me love watching you dance. Watching you, surrounded by them, all of them wanting you, begging to take you home and fuck you, and knowing you're *mine*. Knowing I'm the only one who touches you."

 

"Yes," Alex breathed. "Only you. Never anyone else."

 

Walter held Alex even closer, the younger man's back pressed up against his chest, and began unbuttoning Alex's jeans with infinite care, taking his time. He reached down inside them, finding Alex's cock in its soft nest of hair, running his finger along it, making Alex jump and tremble.

 

"Walter-" he gasped. "Yes...touch me. Been wanting your hands on me all night."

 

Walter smiled and stroked Alex gently, pushing Alex's jeans down around his hips to give him better access. Alex's hips began to undulate as Walter's touch quickly made his cock hard and aching.

 

"You were so beautiful," Walter said again, his voice deep and soft. "You knew it, didn't you? Knew you were driving them all crazy."

 

Alex hesitated.

 

Walter pinched a nipple, getting a satisfying gasp in response.

 

"Answer me, boy," Walter growled, his voice resonating through Alex, held so tightly against him.

 

"Yes." Alex's voice was barely a whisper.

 

Walter chuckled. "You loved it, didn't you? Loved having their eyes on you. On your ass..." He reached down and squeezed one round cheek through the denim, loving the feel of the firm flesh in his hand. He renewed his attentions to Alex's cock, sliding his fingers along it, rolling his balls gently in his fingers. "On your cock...those jeans don't leave much to the imagination, Alex."

 

Alex whimpered in acknowledgement.

 

"Yes," Walter continued, burying his face in Alex's hair as Alex tilted his head back, his lips parting, his eyelids fluttering, his panting loud in the quiet room. "You loved them watching you, wanting you. Knowing they'd give anything to fuck you, to bury themselves in your tight, hot little ass. Knowing they'd give anything to see you on your knees with their cock between your pretty pink lips..."

 

"Yes," Alex breathed.

 

"You loved it," Walter said.

 

"Yes," Alex gasped, bucking back against Walter. "Yes, loved it..."

 

Walter chuckled again.

 

"Tease," he whispered, his lips almost touching Alex's ear. He leaned down and ran his tongue along that long, elegant white throat, nipping as he went. Alex bit back a strangled cry, his hand clutching Walter's hip for support as his knees went weak.

 

"Yes," Alex managed, his voice a hoarse whimper.

 

"Such a little slut," Walter said, his voice low and dangerous, fastening his teeth on one soft earlobe. "Shameless little slut, flaunting yourself like that, driving all those men crazy. Shaking your ass in front of them, knowing they could never have you...does it make you hard? Them looking at you and wanting you like that?"

 

"Oh...God...Walter..." Alex gulped, lost in the words, lost in Walter's voice in his ear and his hand on his cock. "Yes, God...I loved it, loved them wanting me, watching me, I could feel how bad they wanted to fuck me, could feel their eyes burning my skin...loved how bad they wanted me. I was hard...all...night...ohhhnnnnn God Walter-"

 

Suddenly Walter let go of Alex's cock and shoved his jeans roughly down, pulling them off as Alex stepped out of them. He tossed them into a corner and reached down, grabbing Alex's ass hard enough to bruise.

 

"Bad Alex," he said, his smile hidden in Alex's hair. "Bad boy. Such a bad boy, such a little slut. What do you think I ought to do with you?"

 

"Wh-" Alex croaked, his eyes half-closed, "yes, Walter, please..."

 

"Please what?" Walter demanded, slapping one buttcheek sharply. "What should be done with a bad boy like you?"

 

Alex's mouth was open, his panting growing louder. He pressed back against Walter, one hand reaching for Walter's hand, clutching it, pressing it against the heat it had left behind.

 

"B-bad," Alex breathed. "Yes...bad, Walter, so bad...please..."

 

"You were bad tonight, weren't you?" Walter asked, his hand between Alex's legs again. Alex fisted one hand in Walter's sweater, fighting to form words in his sex-stupid haze.

 

"Y-yes," Alex stammered. "Bad...slut...such a slut, Walter. Loved them all looking at me, wanting my ass...loved teasing them, loved it."

 

"Bad," Walter repeated, biting Alex's shoulder. "Need to be taught a lesson. Need to be taken down, boy. Need me to punish you for being such a little slut."

 

"Yes!" Alex gasped, swaying on his feet. "Yes please please Walter need it so bad..."

 

"You do need it, don't you?" Walter asked, nuzzling Alex, running his hands over Alex's chest. "Need me to remind you who you belong to. Need me to make sure you don't forget."

 

"Yes," Alex whispered. "Please..."

 

"Gonna give you what you want," Walter growled, throwing Alex down on the bed. "Gonna mark you again...your pretty ass this time...gonna make sure you remember who owns it, who owns every part of you."

 

"Walter," Alex whimpered, already spreading his legs, desperate for what he had been waiting for all night.

 

"All in good time, boy," Walter said, grinning in spite of himself. "I'm gonna fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked. But we've got some business to take care of first."

 

"Yes, oh God, Walter, do it," Alex groaned, flipping over onto his stomach and grabbing two big handfuls of the comforter. "Make me feel it, please, Walter..."

 

"Oh, you'll feel it all right," Walter said, grabbing Alex's hairbrush off the bedside table. "I think I know someone who's going to be a very sorry little boy when this is over."

 

Alex was thrumming with arousal, even now practically humping the bedclothes, begging for Walter's touch.

 

Walter grabbed Alex and hauled him over his lap. Alex let out a tortured cry as his cock accidentally brushed one of Walter's thighs and the sensation was gone as quickly as it came. He twisted on Walter's lap, trying for more contact, but stilled when one big hand came down on his butt with a resounding slap. 

 

The sight of the hairbrush in Walter's other hand was almost enough to make Alex come. He panted, clutching Walter's leg. 

 

"Oh my God," he gasped. "Y-you remember, that fantasy I told you about when we first met-"

 

"Quiet, boy!" Walter snapped, waving the hairbrush back and forth in front of Alex's eyes. "You know why you're getting a spanking?"

 

Walter's stern tone made Alex so hot, he felt as though he would just melt and disappear into the carpet.

 

"Y-yes, sir," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

 

"Why?" Walter demanded, raising the hairbrush. "Tell me why you're getting punished. Why your Daddy has to spank that beautiful ass of yours."

 

"Because...because I was bad," Alex panted, his knuckles white where he clutched the bedclothes. "Need to be t-taught a lesson."

 

"And you will be, boy," Walter said with a grin, his own cock so hard he could probably pound nails with it. "You will be."

 

He brought the hairbrush down squarely on the center of Alex's right buttcheek, provoking a very vocal reaction.

 

"Settle down, boy," Walter said. "Time to take what you've got coming."

 

"OW!" Alex yelped as the hairbrush came down a second time. "Ow, Walter, please-"

 

Please stop.

 

Please don't ever stop.

 

"Are you going to be good?" Walter asked conversationally as he decorated first one cheek and then the other with bright red ovals. "Are you going to be good so Daddy doesn't have to punish you?"

 

"Yes! Yes!" Alex sobbed, kicking despite himself. "Yes, I swear, Walter, I swear I'll be good, I will, I'll be your good boy-"

 

"Who do you belong to?" Walter demanded, bringing the hairbrush down again, watching the smooth flesh beneath it springing back, changing color after the brush touched it.

 

Alex squeezed his eyes shut tight, hearing the brush whistle through the air before it landed on his throbbing backside.

 

"You!" he shouted. "I belong to you, Walter...I'm your boy, yours forever, only yours."

 

"Good," Walter said, laying the hairbrush aside and rubbing Alex's hot, red bottom gently. "Are you going to remember the lesson? Remember you belong to me? Remember to be good?"

 

"Yes," Alex sobbed. "Yes, I promise, I swear it!"

 

Walter gathered Alex into his arms and held him, carefully massaging Alex's sore and swollen butt, before falling back onto the bed, pulling Alex down on top of him. Alex kissed Walter soundly before resting his head on Walter's chest.

 

"Thank you, Walter," he said, sniffling a little. "I can't believe you remembered-"

 

"I don't forget much," Walter said, laughing. "Was it what you wanted?"

 

Alex raised his head.

 

"Well," he said with a wolfish grin. "So far."

 

Walter sat up, sliding out from under Alex. He grabbed a couple of pillows and stuffed them under Alex's hips, admiring the view of that bright red bottom displayed for his pleasure.

 

"Let's just see what we can do about the rest of it," Walter said, quickly divesting himself of his own clothes and tossing them aside.

 

Alex whined, moving his hips against the pillows until Walter laid a hand on his tender bottom. He stilled quickly, biting his lip.

 

"Hurry, Walter, please," he begged. "Need you..."

 

Walter knelt behind Alex, drinking in the sight of him.

 

His beautiful boy.

 

"Not going to stretch you this time," Walter said, almost thoughtfully. "Want you to feel it. Want you to feel it for a long time."

 

"Yes, do it!" Alex cried, trembling with need. "Please, Walter."

 

Walter was generous with the lube. A moment later, he was buried in Alex, his balls resting against Alex's ass. He began to move, pounding into him, his own shouts mingling with Alex's cries, both men moving against each other in harmony, until Walter finally collapsed on top of Alex, both men gasping.

 

"Oh God," Alex whispered. "That was incredible."

 

"Yes," Walter agreed, pulling gently out of Alex and shifting his weight off him, lying down beside him. They lay there together, the sweat drying on their skin. It was a few moments before either of them spoke.

 

Walter looked at Alex with love in his eyes and leaned down, kissing the closed eyes, the cute little tilted nose, the lush and generous mouth.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Walter asked, leaning up on one elbow.

 

"The party we went to last night. At your client's house."

 

Walter raised an eyebrow, surprised.

 

"What about it?"

 

Alex looked down, one hand plucking at the coverlet.

 

"I...there's another reason I hate going. Not just because it's boring. The...the people there, they..." he trailed off, shrugging. "Never mind."

 

"Come on," Walter urged gently, cupping Alex's chin and raising his face up. "Tell me."

 

"The way they look at me. I hear them whispering. I know what they think I am," Alex said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

 

"And what's that?" Walter asked quietly, taking Alex's hand in his.

 

"That I'm a hustler. A plaything. A boy toy," Alex said. "Choose your own terminology."

 

Walter pulled Alex close, settling them down with Alex spooned in front of him.

 

"I'm sorry, Alex," he said after a moment. "I knew you didn't like the parties but I didn't know it upset you so much to be around those people. I promise, you won't have to go to any more of them."

 

Alex turned so that he and Walter were face to face.

 

"No, Walter," he said, distressed. "I want to be there with you, I do. It's just...sometimes I see the way they look at me and it makes me feel..."

 

"What does it make you feel like, baby?" Walter asked softly.

 

Alex bit his lip, his eyes suddenly bright.

 

"Like I am what they say I am," he whispered. "A golddigger. An ornament."

 

Walter's heart ached.

 

"Is...is that how you think *I* see you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

 

Alex shook his head.

 

"No, Walter."

 

Walter smiled.

 

"Good. May I tell you how I see you, Alex?"

 

Alex smiled a little and ducked his head.

 

"Oh, no," Walter said. "I want you to look at me when I tell you this."

 

Alex raised his head, his eyes searching Walter's.

 

"When I look at you," Walter began, his eyes warm, cherishing Alex's face like the beloved thing it was, "I see a beautiful young man who amazes me every day by waking up next to an old bald guy like me."

 

He held up a hand, silencing Alex's protest at that.

 

"I see a smart, capable, sweet man, equally at home in jeans as he is in a tailored tuxedo. I see...I see the man I love. No more, no less."

 

Alex threw his arms around Walter, burying his face in Walter's chest.

 

"Love you, Walter," he said softly. "Love you so much."

 

"I love you, too, Alex," Walter replied, holding Alex close. "Now and forever. And as far as those tight-asses at the party are concerned...who gives a fuck what they think?"

 

Alex laughed and looked up at Walter. Suddenly, his expression became serious again.

 

"You do know, don't you, Walter...it's not the money. I mean, the money's great, of course, but...if it was all gone tomorrow, I'd still be here. You believe me, don't you?" He looked up, his eyes pleading.

 

Walter leaned down for a long, loving kiss.

 

"Yes," he said, unable to resist dropping another kiss on that adorable nose. "I do believe you, Alex. And I love you for it. But," he added, leaning over Alex and reaching into the bedside table drawer, "as long as I remain one of the wealthiest men in America, we might as well enjoy it."

 

He handed the blue and white envelope to Alex with a flourish.

 

Alex looked up at Walter, his eyes wide, a grin already spreading across his face. He tore open the envelope and whooped with joy, throwing his arms around Walter again.

 

"Walter!" he shouted. "We're going? We're really going?"

 

"Yep," Walter answered, "South Beach, here we come. I hear the shopping there is unbelievable."

 

"Oh, Walter," Alex beamed. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

 

Walter grinned, a little too widely.

 

"Oh, by the way, before I forget," he said airily. "Mrs. Dittmeyer left a message for me. I mentioned to her at the party that I would be taking you to South Beach next week and it just so happens that she's going to be there, too."

 

Alex gulped.

 

"Oh?" he said, his mouth suddenly dry.

 

"Yes," Walter nodded, enjoying Alex's discomfiture. "She was delighted to hear we'd all be there at the same time and she asked if you'd take her shopping. You know, to get things for the redecorating job she's doing on their summer house?"

 

"Sh-she did?"

 

Walter nodded again, a little too enthusiastically.

 

"Oh yes," he purred. "Of course I told her you'd be happy to have her company. Just think, an *entire* afternoon of shopping, just you and Mrs. Dittmeyer. Isn't that great?"

 

Alex looked distinctly green.

 

"Yes," he squeaked. "G-great."

 

Walter lay back, his arms casually tucked under his head.

 

"I can't think of anyone better suited to take her out shopping," he said innocently. "I understand orange and seafoam is all the rage this year."

 

 

End


	3. Sugar Daddy III:  Forever Your Boy

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Rating: Adult. If you’re underage, go away. 

Spoilers: None 

Disclaimer: CC created them, sorta like a sperm donor. Thanks, Chris. We’ll take over from here. 

Warnings: Poor language, skimpy clothing, spanking, sex, Daddy/boy play.

Status: New/Series

Thanks: To Gaby for sharp-eyed beta and much-needed kicks in the butt. Her enthusiasm for this story, dedication to the characters and spot-on suggestions were an immeasurable help. This story would not be what it is without her. And to the real Johnny, even though he'll never read this. Thanks also to Amazon, Elizabeth, Josan, Ursula and Catrina.

Summary: So AU it's in. Prequel to the Sugar Daddy series. You wanted to know how they met, here it is.

Dedication: Happy birthday, HollyIlex! And a belated happy birthday to Raven. Hope no one else got you guys a pretty boy in black leather.

 

 

Sugar Daddy III: Forever Your Boy

 

by Lorelei

 

 

Walter Skinner stood at the window of his suite, staring down at the lights below. Fifth Avenue was a long unbroken line of taillights, the infamous Manhattan traffic never letting up, even at this late hour. It was quiet there on the nineteenth floor of New York’s famously luxurious Plaza Hotel, its pampered guests well insulated from the noise of the city.

 

He let the curtains close and lifted the bottle of beer, taking a long, satisfying swig. He chuckled, remembering the faint hint of haughty disapproval he'd detected when he'd placed his dinner order with room service. The waiter had arrived precisely one-half hour later, his face carefully neutral as he wheeled in the cart, swathed in its crisp white linen. 

 

The filet mignon had been excellent, of course…but the cold Sam Adams was even better.

 

Walter's Hugo Boss jacket and tie were draped carelessly over one arm of the expansive, richly upholstered sofa. He tossed them aside and sat down, picking up the telephone with one hand and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt with the other. He took another sip of his beer, listening to the phone ring on the other end of the line. He checked his watch casually. It was midnight on the West Coast. A little late but he could probably catch Mort between the nightly irate phone call from his ex-wife and his bedtime belt of single-malt scotch.

 

The phone was picked up on the other end.

 

"Hello, Walt." Mort's deep voice was edged with resignation and amusement.

 

"How’d you know it was me?" Walter asked with a grin, knowing full well what the answer would be.

 

"Who else you know who'd have the brass balls to call me this late?" Mort groused. "Do you know what time it is?"

 

"Indeed I do," Walter answered lightly. "I do own a Rolex." He grinned again, watching the light skate over the face of his Oyster Perpetual. "I'm going to pick one up for you here in New York, Mort. A little gift to show my appreciation for all your hard work. Did you know they're waterproof up to four hundred feet? That’ll come in handy when your ex-wife finally has you dipped in cement and tossed in the Bay."

 

Mort heaved a world-weary sigh and laughed. "At least then she won't be able to call me up and chew my ear every night."

 

Walter laughed and took another pull at his beer. "So how is Judy?" he asked. "Still scraping by on a hundred thou a month?"

 

Mort laughed again. Walter heard the edge of pure delight in the man's voice and wondered, not for the first time, if Mort didn't really look forward to his frequent scraps with Judy and her latest legal team. "Yep," he said happily. "She called me tonight screaming blue murder. She wants double the alimony. She wants to go to Nepal to find herself. I told her if she keeps yapping at me, she won't be the only one looking. I bet the I.R.S. would be plenty interested in that silly boutique she claims to own and where all those designer clothes really end up."

 

Walter laughed again. "You're all heart, Mort."

 

"That's what she gets for marrying an accountant," Mort replied. "Now what the hell is so important?"

 

"Have you got the financial report ready on that company I want to invest in, the one in Vermont?" Walter asked, his stocking feet parked irreverently on the Plaza’s gleaming mahogany coffee table.

 

"Yeah, it's on my desk," Mort grumbled. "Look, Walt, I have to advise you-"

 

"I know," Walter interrupted. "It's a risky venture. But what's life without a little risk? I can afford it."

 

"Not if you keep investing in dogs like this," Mort complained. "For Chrissakes, Walt, these kids are barely a year out of college. They've got a lot of big ideas, but that’s all they’ve got."

 

"Just overnight the report to my office," Walter said patiently. "I'll go over it when I get back."

 

"Walt-"

 

"Goodbye, Mort. Love to Judy," Walter said, hanging up the phone. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. All around him, New York roared, but inside this opulent cocoon, he could hear nothing but his own breathing. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The quiet in this damn place was beginning to get to him. He picked up the sleek remote control from the coffee table and turned on the sound system. He flipped quickly through the options, finding nothing that pleased him, and tossed the remote onto the sofa in disgust. 

 

He rubbed the back of his neck absently. To hell with it. It had been a long day of meetings and endless conference calls, and his muscles were stiff and sore. He had begun to believe, after achieving his position in the business world, that the lack of comfort a piece of furniture provided was directly and exponentially linked to its price tag. He had spent the last meeting of the day in Soho, perched on a steel pipe and leather contraption that looked fabulous but which threatened to induce permanent curvature of the spine.

 

He stood up and looked around the room. The place was beautiful, no doubt about it. Once it had been filled with music and laughter, with Vanderbilts and Fitzgeralds enjoying everything that money could buy. Walter smiled ruefully as he walked toward the suite's lavish master bathroom, intent on surrendering his aching muscles to the state of the art multi-jet shower. He wondered as he did if the generations of glitterati who had occupied this suite before him had learned the same hard lesson he had learned over time; that money really can't buy everything.

 

 

Walter turned off the shower and opened the glass door. He toweled himself off quickly. Wrapping himself in the thick bathrobe, he padded barefoot into the living room. He picked up the remote again and a sleek, widescreen television rose silently from its hiding place inside a massive teak cabinet. Walter sat down on the sofa with a sigh. Maybe he could catch the sports report on ESPN before bed.

 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Walter put the remote down and stood up. The knocking came again before he could cross the room, louder and more insistent. Annoyed, Walter opened the door. 

 

The sight that greeted him made his jaw drop.

 

The boy lounging casually against the doorframe was beautiful. He was also nearly naked. Luminous green eyes stared flirtatiously up at Walter from beneath a sheaf of tousled dark hair. A lush mouth quirked into an undeniable 'I’ve been naughty' smirk as Walter's unexpected visitor stood, shoulders thrown back, one hip jutting out, letting Walter look his fill. The boy hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of the barely-there cutoffs. They were slung so low, Walter could see the fine golden hairs just below the boy's navel, the beginning of a faint trail that led to treasures that were prominently displayed under the skintight denim. And they were cut so high, they made long sleek legs look even longer. They seemed to go on for miles before finally ending in a pair of black Doc Martens, a hint of rolled white sock barely visible just above them.

 

Above his waist, he wore nothing save a black leather band encircling one bicep. Pale brown nipples stood erect, his bare chest adorned with a faint scatter of freckles just below the delicate collarbones. Everything about him screamed sex. Walter stared at him, his eyes raking over the boy's smooth naked skin, his cock hard under his robe. Quickly, he glanced up and down the hall and then grabbed the boy's arm, yanking him into the suite and slamming the door.

 

"What are you doing here dressed like that?" he snapped, giving the boy a firm shake. "Have you lost your mind?"

 

The boy shrugged, looking up at Walter through his eyelashes. "It's hot out," he said softly, his husky voice making Walter’s cock ache.

 

"You walked through the lobby like that?" Walter asked incredulously. "How the hell did you get them to let you in?"

 

The boy shrugged again and looked down, managing somehow to look both guilty and demure at the same time. "Well, you know what they say," he purred. "A smile opens a thousand doors." He walked over to the table by the window, his round ass swaying fetchingly under the thin, straining fabric, and helped himself to a grape from the bowl of fruit. He leaned against the table, eating the grape, sliding it seductively into his mouth, his eyes never leaving Walter.

 

Walter flipped the television off, banishing it back into the depths of the cabinet. He put his head in his hands. Lord only knew what the hotel staff thought when they saw the boy walking through the lobby like that, even at three a.m. 

 

"You look like a slut, Alex," Walter said matter-of-factly.

 

Alex took another grape from the bowl and held it to his lips. "I know," he said with a naughty grin, his eyes flickering down to the erection tenting the front of Walter’s robe. They lingered there for a moment before rising, laughing, back to Walter's face. 

 

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Walter asked, sitting down on the sofa. "It's a bit late for visiting."

 

Alex dropped his eyes and scuffed his toe lightly on the carpet, his hands clasped behind his back. "I just thought you might like some company," he said innocently, glancing quickly up to see if his shy routine was having the desired effect. From the way Walter's eyes were devouring him, Alex felt sure that it was. "But if you want me to leave..."

 

He started for the door.

 

"Oh no, you don't," Walter said, getting up quickly and grasping Alex's shoulders. He briskly marched Alex to the sofa and sat him down firmly. "You're not going back out there dressed like that. They'll think I ordered you out of the Yellow Pages."

 

Alex laughed delightedly, lounging back against the cushions, his legs spread shamelessly. "I was thinking about getting a summer job..."

 

Walter folded his arms, his stern glare and his raised eyebrow communicating just how much humor he found in that remark.

 

Alex bit his lip and blushed adorably, dropping his eyes again in that way that made him look like a little boy about to receive a well-deserved scolding. Walter couldn't take his eyes off him. He sat down in the chair across from Alex, leaning his elbows on his knees.

 

***

 

He'd met the boy five nights before in a club on Manhattan's Lower East side. The Furnace was one of the hottest gay clubs on the East Coast, and not just because of its name. Those lucky enough to make it past the imposing bouncers didn't soon forget the experience. The walls were painted lurid red and dripped with condensation as the heat rose, the mass of heaving, semi-naked bodies on the dance floor sending the temperature inside skyrocketing, even in winter. Flame-colored lights licked and danced over them all, turning naked skin all the colors of a glorious, decadent Hell as the music thumped and beautiful boys danced in wrought-iron cages.

 

Walter had gone there his first night in New York, his well-tailored suit and obvious wealth assuring his entry into this dark paradise. He fought his way to the bar and ordered a drink. He spent a couple of hours at a table in the corner, watching the boys dance and fending off the advances of a couple of enterprising twinks who kept stealing glances at his expensive watch.

 

"You wanna take me home, don't you?" one of them screeched in his ear. Brent? Bret? Who could tell with this noise? Overgelled blond hair stood straight up over a too-eager smile. A hand pawed at Walter’s chest, its owner confusing boldness with charm. "Come on, big Daddy. Don't you want a boy to play with?"

 

Walter politely but firmly divested himself of Brent-Bret and his friend, checking his wallet and watch as he did. He turned to leave, wondering how late the Plaza's heated pool was open, and suddenly froze in his tracks.

 

There was a boy dancing on the bar across the room. Walter stood dumbstruck, unable to tear his eyes away. The music seemed to speed up, to get louder, something that Walter wouldn't have thought possible. It was now a merciless wall of sound; everything – melody, lyrics – lost in a pulsating, thumping bass beat that shook Walter’s ribcage, the sensation seeming to shoot straight down to his cock. The boy on the bar whirled and danced, his arms stretched up over his head, his hips undulating, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Walter watched in awe as the boy moved to the music, his movements lithe and fluid, his eyes closed, lost to all but the music. 

 

A crowd had gathered around him, hands reached up to touch him, but the boy danced away, a mocking smile on his face. He turned his back on them, dancing faster, the music seeming to flow through him. Walter's eyes were drawn to the tight pair of leather pants the boy wore. The leather looked buttery soft, well-worn, cupping the boy's utterly astonishing ass and displaying it tauntingly to the frustrated men surrounding him. One heavily muscled man in a leather vest shoved his way to the front of the crowd and beckoned to the boy. Walter watched, amused, as the boy shook his head, threw a teasing glance over one shoulder and danced further away, thrusting that delectable ass out before turning and surrendering himself to the music once more.

 

Walter stood alone in the writhing crowd, hearing nothing, seeing nothing but the beautiful demon who seemed to hold him in his sway. Slowly, hardly realizing his feet were moving, Walter moved closer to the bar, pushing his way through the crowd until he stood at the edge of the bar. Above him, the boy danced on, faster and faster, his bare skin glistening with sweat, a slave to the primitive driving beat of the music, master of all those who saw him, all those who stood in the dark with their eyes devouring his skin, his hair, his flashing eyes.

 

The boy turned, still dancing, his hips thrusting to the beat. Walter looked up at him. He did not scream or taunt or reach out his hands to touch him like the others. He merely watched, his eyes dark and soft, full of the beautiful creature who swayed before him. 

 

Suddenly green eyes opened. They immediately met Walter's even gaze and widened in surprise, then lowered seductively. The boy danced a little closer, turning his back again, looking over his shoulder as his ass shifted and wriggled under the leather. Walter watched, mesmerized, as the boy moved closer still, almost close enough to touch. The boy was openly teasing him, the green eyes never leaving him as the tight young body moved to the music. Finally, the song came to an end, the crowd erupting into applause as the boy finished his dance and stood, panting, sweat drying on his naked torso, accepting the adulation that was his due. Hoots and catcalls rose above the shouts, coarse words, obscene invitations and outright begging showered down around him as he stood, aloof and alone, a prince among the rabble.

 

Only Walter stood silently, just watching, a smile curling his lips. The boy caught his look and stared down at him, clear challenge sparkling in his emerald eyes. I dare you, that look said.

 

Challenge accepted.

 

Walter stepped forward, reached up and grabbed the boy, lifting him down from the bar and tossing him over his shoulder in one smooth motion. The crowd gasped and then broke into thunderous applause as Walter strode toward the door, his arm wrapped around two long, dangling legs, his other hand resting on a round, leather-clad bottom. The warm weight of his prize felt solid and good against Walter's shoulder, the boy's decidedly faint struggles making the victory all the more delicious.

 

Walter stepped outside, the rush of cool night air hitting him as the bouncers stepped out of his way, grinning. Walter breathed the fresh air in gratefully, shifted his burden and crossed the street to his rented Mercedes. 

 

"You can put me down now," a faintly petulant voice said from somewhere in the vicinity of Walter's waist. Walter set the boy on his feet and leaned smugly against the car, his arms folded, waiting to see if the boy had the guts to follow through with the game. He smiled as he watched the boy try to collect himself, affecting a nonchalant air, but his cheeks were flushed and his breathing just a little too fast. Walter glanced down and his smile widened into a grin. Nope, he thought. No hiding that full basket you’ve got there, little boy.

 

"What's your name, boy?" Walter asked, watching as the boy struggled mightily to appear unimpressed.

 

"Alex," the boy answered, his eyes traveling unashamedly up and down Walter’s muscular frame. He gave the gleaming Mercedes an appreciative glance and arranged himself against it seductively, smirking at Walter. "You've got balls, mister. No one ever did that before."

 

"Maybe someone should have," Walter said amusedly, one eyebrow raised. "You really like dancing up there, don't you? Everyone looking at you?"

 

Alex grinned, that challenging look in his eyes again. "And you really like to watch me doing it, don't you?"

 

Walter grinned in spite of himself. This one was a spitfire, all right. Not like those other fawning, grasping twinks just out to put another notch in their bankbooks. No, this one was different.

 

"Yes," he said, his steady gaze pinning the boy. "I do. You looked good up there. But you'd look better in my bed."

 

Alex met Walter's gaze, his eyes twinkling with devilment. "Well," he purred, "what are we standing here for?"

 

They'd spent the night together in the big bed in Walter's hotel suite, Walter indulging the boy's frequent requests for Jacuzzis and room service, Alex indulging Walter's frequent requests to bury himself in that tight, hot ass, the boy writhing and moaning under him, so responsive, so beautiful. Walter had nipped a trail of love bites down Alex's flat stomach and into the soft dark hair below it, stroked that soft pale skin, fucked him senseless, slept for an hour and then woke up and did it all over again. The boy had slipped out in the morning, taking a pilfered bottle of champagne with him, leaving an exhausted Walter lying sated in the Plaza's sumptuous sheets.

 

Walter had intended to quit the boy after that night, to mark him down as an especially satisfying entry in a very crowded little black book. He often picked up a pretty young man when he was somewhere on business, and never the same one twice. Walter tried to put him out of his mind the next day as he rushed through a flurry of meetings, trying to make the most of his time in New York. But again and again, his mind wandered from the business at hand and back to dark hair, smooth pale skin and brilliant green eyes. That luscious ass, so open to him, so willing. 

 

Walter had sent the boy home with a set of marks on one round cheek, having been so half-mad with passion that he had bitten into it like a ripe peach. Walter fidgeted in his chair – damned uncomfortable thing! – and crossed his legs, silently cursing his rebellious cock, which now wanted his full attention in the middle of a meeting. Walter smiled politely, hiding his discomfiture, but his mind went straight back to Alex. God, the noises he'd made! When Walter had entered him he had cried out, his whole body trembling, his moans and gasps filling the room as Walter thrust in and out of him.

 

Walter had cut his schedule short that day. He had to see Alex again.

 

It hadn't been difficult to find him. The crowd at The Furnace cheered Walter when he walked in. He caught more than one look of mingled envy and admiration as he headed for the bar. His money was no good that night, the bartender simply refilling his scotch and saying with a grin, "You tamed the green-eyed monster, man! You're a legend around here!"

 

Walter grinned and sipped his drink, looking around casually. "Green-eyed monster?" he asked. 

 

The bartender leaned against the bar, ignoring two customers who were waving twenties and yelling for Heineken. "Yeah," he said with a grin. "That's what we all call him." The bartender laughed and shook his head. "He always comes in looking like the hottest fucking thing on two legs, dances all night, shakes his ass...but he never goes home with anyone."

 

"Never?" Walter asked, holding up his hand as the bartender reached for the whiskey bottle again.

 

"Nope," the bartender said, snatching the twenties from the persistent men and shoving two Heinekens at them. "I've never seen him leave here with anybody. Well," he paused and winked at Walter, "nobody but you. But I've heard things around."

 

"What sort of things?" Walter asked, leaning forward.

 

"Aw, you know," the bartender answered, whipping the bar rag off his shoulder and wiping down the bar. "People talk."

 

Walter held out his glass again, his gaze intense and curious. "On second thought, I'll have another." 

 

That night, Alex danced just for him, his eyes never leaving Walter's face as the crowd roared around them. Walter stood watching, transfixed, as Alex swayed to the beat, the lights caressing his skin, the tight jeans he wore hugging every curve of his gorgeous young body, his tanned midriff peeking out beneath an abbreviated tank top. 

 

Walter took Alex back to the Plaza again that night. Alex left the club this time on his own two feet, trailing behind Walter, smirking and blowing kisses to his frustrated admirers like the shameless little minx he was.

 

Walter fed him and bathed him, rubbing scented oil into every inch of his naked flesh, then fucked him through that big luxurious mattress. Alex gasped and screamed as Walter plowed into him, prompting Walter to press a hand over the boy's mouth lest the hotel staff come running to stop a murder in progress. Alex's eyes rolled up in his head and he came explosively, his hands fisting in the sheets. This time Walter wore the bite marks, in the palm of one hand. He kept looking at them the entire next day, rubbing them absently. Alex haunted him, wouldn't let him rest. He was like some gloriously intoxicating drug that kept Walter coming back for just a little more, one more taste...but one more was never enough.

 

Walter had gone back to The Furnace that third night, but the bartender met him with a shrug and a casual, "Haven't seen him in here tonight, buddy." Walter sipped his scotch and tried to look casual as he scanned the faces of the crowd, feeling ridiculous, like the world's oldest eighth-grader, stood up at the school dance. 

 

He waited there for what felt like an eternity, the music pounding him like heavy surf, his eyes moving over the writhing bodies on the dance floor without really seeing them. They were young and they were beautiful, but none of them was Alex. One of the more aggressive twinks positioned himself directly in front of Walter in a blatant attempt at seduction, his glittering eyes never leaving Walter as he shook his bubble butt, encased in too-tight designer jeans. The twink frowned, his avaricious eyes narrowing as his best dance moves got no reaction. He spun and swayed, clumsily aping one far more graceful than he, and finally stopped, humiliated and frustrated, his fists clenched by his sides.

 

"What's the matter, big Daddy?" he snarled at Walter. "Lose your pretty little boytoy? He out fucking someone else?"

 

Walter tossed back the rest of his drink and turned his back on the twink. He walked toward the door, his silence and broad impassive back an intolerable humiliation for his would-be seducer. 

 

"Fuck you!" the twink yelled, his eyes sparkling with tears of anger. "You think he's better than me?" He followed Walter toward the exit, screaming at the top of his lungs. "What's he got that I don't? That little slut! That whore! He's-"

 

The crowd gasped as Walter suddenly spun around, his eyes flashing with rage. The twink paled, his mouth snapping shut and his eyes growing wide with surprise. Walter glared at him as he reached into his jacket pocket and took out his billfold. He pulled out a crisp twenty and folded it in half. All eyes were on Walter as, with a controlled flick of the wrist, he threw the bill in the twink's face.

 

The twink's mouth fell open as he watched the bill flutter to the floor in front of him. He looked up at Walter incredulously, two bright spots of color on his cheeks.

 

"There," Walter said coldly. "Now you finally have something he doesn’t."

 

He turned and walked away, leaving the shocked twink in his wake. Behind him, a chorus of "ooooohs" erupted as the other denizens of the club rejoiced in the twink's humiliation. 

 

Walter spent the rest of that night in the Plaza's well-appointed gym, taking out his frustration on the heavy bag.

 

The next day was a Thursday. Walter only had one meeting scheduled that day, and a long business lunch with the vice-president of his New York office. Walter's watercress salad sat untouched on the fine gold-edged plate as the VP, a pleasant enough fellow named Granger, talked too much and smiled a bit too widely. Walter smiled and nodded politely in the appropriate places but didn't hear one word the man said. Finally, Walter cut the meeting short, offering a perfunctory excuse as he rose and pushed his chair back. He felt a pang of sympathy for the VP, who was now chalk white and stammering, obviously frantic at having apparently made some sort of faux pas. Walter took a deep breath, chased glowing green eyes out of his mind for just a moment. 

 

That moment seemed to take all of his strength.

 

Walter smiled and reassured Granger with a hastily constructed tale of a sick cousin in the hospital and a limited amount of time in the city. 

 

The man's relief was palpable. Walter shook Granger's sweaty hand and walked quickly outside, startling the driver from the car service, who had been leaning against the Town Car's fender, reading the sports section. The man quickly settled his cap on his head and ran around to open the door for Walter. Walter settled into the leather seat and stared unseeing out of the window as the car slowly merged into uptown traffic.

 

He spent the evening in his suite, sitting at the table by the window, his dinner untouched on the tray in front of him. Walter rested his chin on his hand, staring out as the city roared on around him. Millions of lives out there, people working and sleeping and fighting and fucking and…

 

Somewhere in that teeming mass of humanity was one raven-haired boy who was slowly driving Walter crazy.

 

Walter shook his head and laughed a little at himself. Jesus, Walt. What the hell is the matter with you? A few days ago you were a wealthy, successful giant of the business world, and now just look at you, staring moon-eyed out the window like some lovesick fool. He glanced at his uneaten dinner and stood up, tossing his napkin over the cold steak. He stalked into the bathroom, undressing as he went, tossing his clothes anywhere. He splashed cold water on his face, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. You are ridiculous, he told himself, his eyes reproachful and hard. You've never lost your concentration in your life. Now you can't even sit through a two-hour meeting. Show you a tight ass and a pair of pretty green eyes and you lose your fucking mind.

 

He leaned against the sink and exhaled, closing his eyes. You've picked up countless pretty boys in countless towns, Walter, the nagging inner voice continued. Forget him. What makes this one different? What makes this one so special?

 

Walter opened the shower door and turned on the water. It splashed and danced over the tiles, mocking him, laughing at him, the answer floating up in a cloud of steam.

 

Everything.

 

***

 

Walter didn't tell himself he wouldn't go to The Furnace that night. 

 

He knew better.

 

He strode through the crowd, ignoring the whispers and the pointed fingers. A few of the bolder patrons whistled and clapped as he walked by, congratulating him for his performance the night before.

 

The bartender gave him another shrug and a sympathetic look. "Haven't seen him."

 

Walter's heart sank. He nodded, his face burning at the look of pity in the younger man's eyes. 

 

He thinks I'm a fool, Walter thought. And the nagging voice replied.

 

Aren't you?

 

He shook his head as the bartender reached for the bottle of Glenfiddich. He turned to go, then stopped. He turned back to the bar, motioning to the bartender, who had turned to take another customer’s order. The bartender nodded and popped the top off a bottle of Corona, sliding it to the heavyset man who had ordered it. He slammed the cash register drawer and turned back to Walter.

 

"When I was in here last night," Walter said, leaning close so the bartender could hear him, "you were telling me..." He paused, hoping he didn't look as desperate as he sounded. "You said there were a few other places..."

 

The bartender hesitated a moment. He looked at the older man, at his expensive suit, at the watch that probably cost more than a bartender in a place like this would see in a year. At first, he'd figured this guy for just another wealthy chickenhawk, cruising the bars for an amiable young companion for the night. But there was something in the man's eyes that said that he was looking for more than just another piece of pretty ass. The bartender called down to the other end of the bar.

 

"Hey, Mike! Cover for me for a minute!"

 

The young man working the other end of the bar waved his assent and the bartender motioned to Walter to follow him. He led Walter behind the bar and down a short hallway to a metal door. They stepped out into the alley. The bartender reached into his pocket and fished out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. He held it out to Walter inquiringly. Walter shook his head.

 

The bartender lit his cigarette and exhaled, the plume of smoke rising in the cool night air. He looked at Walter and held out his hand.

 

"I'm Johnny, by the way."

 

Walter shook the man's hand. "Walter Skinner."

 

Johnny nodded, smoking in silence for a moment.

 

"He’s been coming here for a few months," he said finally, tapping his ash on the pavement. "Ever since he finally turned twenty-one. Man, I can't count how many times I had to chase his little ass out of here for sneaking in underage." Johnny laughed and took another drag. "He came in the night of his birthday, flashing his new I.D. – a legal one this time – with the biggest grin on his face. Next thing I knew he was up on top of my bar shaking that ass. Jesus, I thought a riot was gonna break out."

 

Johnny smoked thoughtfully for another moment and then continued.

 

"I've been working here a long time and I've seen it all," he confided, blowing his smoke courteously away from Walter. "But I've never seen anybody work a room the way this kid does. I can't tell you how many times I've had to break up fights over him. I mean, this place ain't exactly conservative, know what I mean? But sometimes he comes in here showing so much skin, I'm ready to throw a blanket over him and haul his ass right back out, because I know somebody's gonna end up bleeding before the night's out."

 

Walter nodded, smiling a little. "He's something else, all right."

 

Johnny laughed. "Man, what you did the other night," he said, clapping Walter on the shoulder for emphasis, "I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for someone to do that! I mean," he continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, "I like the kid. I really do. He's a sweetheart, and he can't help looking like that any more than birds can help singin'. But Jesus, he's killing me! The kid's a tease. He loves getting up there and driving them wild, but then he thinks he can just hop down and go looking for the next good time. He doesn't understand what he's doing to some of those guys." Johnny dropped his cigarette on the pavement and ground it with the toe of his shoe. He looked at Walter, his expression open and frank. "You wanna know what I think? I think he's heading for trouble."

 

Walter nodded. "I think you're right."

 

Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the brick wall behind him. "Some nights I spend more time trying to keep an eye on him than I do slinging drinks. I see them watching him, hear the things they say. I see that hungry look in their eyes, like they’re fucking starving." Johnny shrugged again and looked away. "I ought to throw him out of here and tell him not to come back, but I ain't got the heart. Besides, if he ain't shaking it here, he's shaking it someplace else."

 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Walter said. "Last night you said there are other clubs he goes to, other places he likes to hang out."

 

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. I don’t know firsthand, but I know he doesn't come here every night. Some of the leather bars over on Christopher Street, I heard he goes there. Dirty Mick's, Newgate Prison, The Dungeon."

 

Walter blanched at the thought of Alex in a leather bar. Johnny caught Walter's look and nodded. "Exactly."

 

Walter shook Johnny's hand, pressing a folded hundred dollar bill into it. Johnny looked at it and grinned, but handed it back. "No thanks, man. I ain't lookin' for that. Look," he said earnestly, "if anybody else had tried what you did the other night, I'd have kicked them across the fucking street. But there's something about you. You don't look at him like the others do, like some drooling dog lookin' at a plate of prime rib. There's something different about you."

 

Walter colored, unable to hide a smile as he stuffed the hundred back into his pocket.

 

"I mean it," Johnny continued, his hand on Walter's arm. "I've tried talking to the kid but it just goes in one ear and out the other. He's playing a dangerous game, Mr. Skinner. He's hot and he knows it. He loves the attention, loves knowing they all wanna be the one to take him home. But some of those guys, especially at Mick's and those other places...some of them might not ask permission, you know what I mean?"

 

"Has anyone..." Walter began.

 

"Far as I know, not yet," Johnny said, opening the back door again. "But from what I hear, he's had some close calls." Johnny paused, giving Walter a serious look. "For a twinkie who's only been on the scene a short time, he's built up one hell of a reputation. Everyone in the scene knows who he is. It's getting to the point where it's like a competition between the guys to see which one can be the one to bring that puppy to heel. He needed what you did the other night. Needs more than that, if you ask me. I gotta tell you the truth, man...I was kinda hoping not to see him again."

 

Walter nodded. "Thanks, Johnny," he said quietly. "If I have anything to say about it, you won't."

 

 

Walter spent the next few hours searching the leather bars along Christopher Street. After a time, they all seemed the same, the industrial decor and flashing lights, the throbbing bass beat. Burly leather men, precocious young subs. Pretty young slave boys trailing along behind their Masters, thin leads attached to the collars around their necks. Walter walked through the crowds, his eyes scanning the faces of the dancers, impervious to the awed whispers of the young subs who trailed him, their eyes on his broad shoulders and muscular physique. When he turned on his heel and left without even a glance in their direction, their disappointed eyes followed him, comically similar pouts on their faces.

 

As the night wore on, Walter began to get discouraged. He had already been to most of the leather bars on Christopher Street and still no sign of Alex. 

 

He walked into The Dungeon, a sinister-looking stone pile on a dark corner of the street, and at once knew he had found what he was looking for. The club was obviously not for the dilettante, as the curious looks being thrown Walter's way attested. He stood out, a stripe of grey Armani in a sea of black leather. The dance floor was directly ahead of him, roiling with a mass of mostly naked bodies drenched in sweat. Long padded leather benches ran down both sides of the room. Pretty young subs knelt at the feet of their Masters. Here and there a boy was chained to the wall or draped over a muscular thigh, bucking under the kiss of a leather-covered paddle. Cries of pain and pleasure rose above the crashing tumult of the music, mingling with the crack of leather on bare skin.

 

Walter moved through the darkened room, his eyes moving quickly over every face he saw, then flickering away with disappointment. Just as they had at the other leather bars he'd visited, his path was frequently blocked by eager young subs looking for a strong hand. Their arousal quickly turned to confusion when he passed them by without a word. Walter noticed a crowd gathering at the far end of the dance floor, felt the tension building in the air, as palpable as the smell of leather and sweat. Men were shouting over the music, primal bellows of lust. Leather-gloved fists rose above the crowd, pumping the air. Walter moved toward them quickly, pushing through the crowd, finally breaking through the circle of muscular bodies.

 

He'd found Alex.

 

The boy danced alone, his eyes closed, oblivious to the madness around him. He wore nothing but a pair of leather pants – even tighter than the ones he'd worn the night Walter first saw him – and a pair of shiny black knee-high boots. He smiled as he moved to the music, his slim hips thrusting in time to the beat. Walter stared at him, his cock immediately growing full and hard. He silently cursed his body's Pavlovian reaction but could not take his eyes off the beautiful boy who danced before him, the lights flicking over his bare skin like a lover's tongue. Jesus, Walter thought. He might as well have "fuck me" tattooed on his forehead.

 

Alex danced on, loving the feel of their eyes on him, loving knowing that none of them could have him. He opened his eyes. Walter Skinner stood directly in front of him, unmoving, his expression unreadable. Alex's eyes widened in surprise, but only for a moment. He winked at Walter and grinned. Damn him, Walter thought angrily. If he had whiskers he'd be licking the cream off them. As if he could read Walter's mind, Alex laughed and spun around, looking at Walter coquettishly over his shoulder. Walter's cock strained against the expensive fabric of his suit pants as his eyes traveled down that smooth graceful back to the...

 

Walter caught his breath, all the blood in his brain seeming to have migrated to his aching cock.

 

Alex's leather pants had cutouts, one on each round cheek. Alex danced closer, thrusting his ass out, his eyes twinkling with impish delight. Walter didn't have to guess what Alex wanted him, wanted everyone, to see. There they were, a faint but perfect set of bite marks on his plump, downy right cheek, framed in black leather. Alex threw his arms over his head and danced on, shaking his hips, making sure everyone had a good look. He turned to face Walter again, pursing his lips and blowing him a kiss before he lost himself in the music again. Walter watched him, stunned by his beauty, all dark hair and white skin and fiery eyes.

 

Alex danced on, enjoying the attention, delighting in teasing the men who screamed for him, but all the time, his eyes were on Walter. The air was crackling with tension and testosterone as Alex drove the men around him crazy, shaking his ass shamelessly, teasing them, dancing away when anyone got too close. Walter felt a surge of jealousy rising up inside him. They roared their impotent rage, wanting to get at him, get inside him, make him theirs. Walter shook his head. What the boy was doing was dangerous...like dangling fresh meat in front of a pack of wolves. It was a situation that could easily get out of hand.

 

Walter took a step toward Alex, intending to put a stop to this little game before the boy got hurt. Alex laughed and danced away, giving Walter his best come-on-and-make-me smirk. He blew Walter another kiss and turned, feeling the air on his sweat-slicked skin, his nipples hard, his cock hard. He was fucking hot, unstoppable, untouchable. He felt a little frisson of pleasure as the DJ threw on his favorite song and turned the volume up even higher. 

 

He didn't hear Walter’s shout of warning as he moved back, right into the arms of the huge leather-clad man behind him.

 

'“Hey!" Alex shouted, trying to twist away. The big man held him fast, one hand clutching a leather-framed cheek possessively.

 

"You need discipline, little boy," the man rumbled, pulling Alex close. "You're coming with me."

 

The crowd roared its approval. Cries of "Fucking cocktease!" and "Yeah! Teach that little slut a lesson, Rick!" rose up all around Walter. Walter tried to fight his way through to Alex but bodies blocked his path as the men strained to see the boy finally get his comeuppance.

 

"The fuck I am!" Alex retorted, kicking at the larger man. "Let me go!"

 

"Come on, little boy," the man growled, grabbing Alex's hair and yanking his head back, exposing his white throat. "You need to be taught a lesson."

 

"Fuck you!" Alex shouted, struggling harder. "Get off me!"

 

The man laughed and squeezed Alex's ass hard, then reached around and grabbed his crotch. "You like leather, boy?" he asked, his mouth close to Alex's ear. "I'm gonna give you plenty. Gonna strap your ass good. Then, if you're lucky, I'm gonna fuck that hot little ass of yours good and hard. Make you beg me for it."

 

"Fuck off!" Alex screamed, beginning to panic. He desperately scanned the eager faces around him, but none offered help. Their eyes glittered with excitement, every man among them rock-hard at the thought of seeing the little tease get what was coming to him.

 

"Say goodbye to your friends, slut," the leather man sneered, beginning to drag Alex toward the edge of the dance floor. "Next time they see you, you're gonna be wearing my collar."

 

"Let him go," Walter boomed, shoving the spectators aside.

 

Alex looked at his rescuer with frank relief as he hung from the man’s muscular arms, the toes of his black boots barely scraping the floor. Walter tore off his suit jacket and threw it down. He crossed the floor and got right into the big man's face.

 

"I said let him go," Walter growled. "NOW."

 

"And just who the fuck-" was all Alex’s would-be owner got out before Walter nailed him with a roundhouse punch to the face. The big man went down like a sack of cement. The crowd gasped and then roared its disapproval, their guttural shouts seeming to rattle the walls. Walter grabbed Alex by the wrist. 

 

"We've got to get out of here," Walter said urgently. "I can't fight them all off."

 

Alex pulled away, trying unsuccessfully to pretend the incident hadn't rattled him, but his pallid face and wide eyes belied his fear. "I don't want to go," he said stubbornly, his voice shaking. "I haven't finished dancing yet."

 

"Oh yes, you have," Walter said firmly. He grabbed his suit jacket off the floor with one hand, wrapped the other hand firmly around Alex's wrist and towed the protesting boy through the club. Behind them the crowd screamed its rage. Walter heard glass breaking and moved faster, forcing Alex to stumble along behind him.

 

Finally, they reached the sidewalk, where Alex immediately began trying to pry himself free of Walter's grasp. 

 

"Oh-KAY," he protested, trying to pull away. "We're outside now. You can let me go."

 

Walter said nothing, ignoring the boy's whines as he towed him the length of Christopher Street, provoking a smattering of applause and catcalls from other club denizens, gathered around doorways to escape the heat or grab a quick smoke. Walter kept going until he rounded the next corner, reaching the dark blue Mercedes, grateful to see that all four hubcaps were still present and accounted for. He let go of Alex's wrist and the boy immediately cradled it, pouting prettily.

 

"That caveman routine is getting pretty old," he sulked.

 

"You're welcome," Walter said acidly, giving Alex a look that clearly said he was out of patience. "You're damned lucky I was there, boy, or you'd be in a world of hurt right now."

 

Alex flushed and looked down, biting his lip. After a moment, he raised his eyes, looking at Walter through a forest of thick lashes. An old trick, to be sure, but Alex had found it to be devastatingly effective.

 

"Thank you," he breathed, clasping his hands behind his back and bowing his head just slightly, his body telegraphing sex and submission. "You saved me."

 

Walter fixed him with a stern glare and put his hands on his hips.

 

"You don't have an audience anymore, boy," he snapped. "So you can stop performing. You don't take this seriously at all, do you?"

 

Alex shrugged. Walter felt his anger rising and fought to keep control. Damn it all, but he wanted to take the boy and shake some sense into him!

 

"Alex," Walter tried again, patiently. "Do you have any idea how dangerous these little games of yours are? What could have happened to you just now?"

 

Alex looked at him blankly. "But it didn't," he said casually. "You slugged the creep. Everything's cool."

 

Walter stared at him, frustrated. He took a step toward Alex. "Alex, listen to me," he said, his voice low and serious. "You put yourself in a very dangerous situation just now. You have to stop this. Next time I might not be there to save you."

 

Alex fluttered his lashes at Walter, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I was just dancing," he purred, his voice like honey.

 

"Damn it, boy!" Walter roared, making the boy jump. "Enough with the games! You can't keep going to these clubs half-naked, shoving your ass in these men's faces and expecting them not to react!"

 

Alex backed away, bright tears in his eyes. "You can't tell me what to do!" he shouted angrily. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

 

Walter stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Alex-"

 

"I don't give a fuck what you say!" Alex shouted. "I can do whatever I want!"

 

"Alex," Walter said again. "Just listen to me. All I'm trying to-"

 

"Fuck this," Alex said, backing further away. "I don't need this. You're not my Daddy, Walter."

 

Walter stared at him for a moment.

 

"You're right, Alex," he said simply. "I'm not."

 

He got into his Mercedes and started it up, then drove away without a backward glance.

 

Alex stood alone on the street corner, watching him drive away, the taillights fading away in the distance.

 

 

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Walter said again. The boy sat across from him, arms spread along the back of the sofa, long legs apart. Walter could see the soft, taut skin of his inner thighs. With effort, he forced himself to look up again. Don't fall for it, Walter, he thought sternly to himself. Sea-green eyes met his and blinked slowly, seductively, long lashes sweeping over them like fans.

 

"I told you," Alex said with a pout. "I thought-"

 

"I know what you told me," Walter said gruffly. "Now I want the truth."

 

Alex pouted again, but stopped when he saw it wasn't getting him anywhere. He flushed and looked down, toying with the frayed hem of his cutoffs.

 

"I was lonely," he murmured, looking up at Walter through his lashes.

 

Walter raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, Alex, I find that difficult to believe."

 

The lower lip poked out again. Alex stood and walked over to Walter's chair. "It's true," he said softly. "I wanted to see you."

 

Walter said nothing, just watched as Alex settled himself on the arm of the chair and posed himself appealingly. He stroked Walter's arm lightly, fingers sliding over the lush fabric.

 

"I didn't go out tonight," he said, his eyes studying Walter's face for signs of approval. "I was really good."

 

"Alex," Walter said briskly, settling back in the chair, "it's none of my business where you go or what you do. I'm not your Daddy, remember?"

 

Alex stopped stroking Walter's arm. 

 

"I know," he whispered, looking down. He glanced up quickly through his lashes. Walter's eyes were studying his face intently. Alex blushed prettily and continued, his voice uncharacteristically soft and timid. "I...I was thinking about what you said last night. I know you're not my Daddy but..." he trailed off, biting his lip.

 

"But?" Walter prompted.

 

Alex fidgeted a little, looking away. "I..."

 

"Alex," Walter said, more than a little impatiently. "Out with it. What are you trying to say?" He watched as the boy opened his mouth to speak and closed it, then stared down at his hands in his lap. Walter felt a surge of annoyance mingled with downright self-pity. Sooner or later, it always came to this. Well, if the boy was going to ask for money, let him get it over with! His billfold lay on the delicately carved table in the entryway. Walter looked at it, waiting for the inevitable; the pleading eyes, the heartrending tale of rent overdue, the car in need of repair, the sick relative in a far-flung town. At least once the boy had gotten what he'd come for, Walter could get a few hours of sleep before his flight. This time tomorrow he'd be home again, trying to forget soft hair and green eyes and the ache in his heart.

 

An impatient sound from Alex broke into his reverie. Walter turned back to his unexpected visitor and found the boy watching him with an amused look. Alex arched his back a little and trailed one hand along his thigh, luring Walter’s eyes downward. Satisfied that he now had Walter's attention back where it belonged, he moved a little closer. 

 

"What would it be like?" he said softly, hesitantly. "I mean...if you were my Daddy..."

 

"Alex-"

 

"Please," Alex said, looking down again contritely. "Don't be mad at me. I'm sorry for those things I said last night. I just...I just want..."

 

Walter caught the boy's chin and made him look up. Alex started a little but did not try to pull away. He looked into Walter's serious brown eyes and swallowed hard.

 

"What do you want?" Walter demanded.

 

Alex stared at Walter for a moment, seeming almost startled by the question. He ducked his head a little, a shy, disarming gesture. Slowly, his eyes rose to meet Walter's again. Alex held the older man's gaze as he slowly, deliberately mouthed Walter's index finger, sucking it gently. Walter slowly pulled his hand away, his eyes on Alex’s glistening pink mouth, so hot, so wet. Alex smiled and leaned closer to Walter.

 

"You know what I want," Alex whispered, his breath hot on Walter's ear. "What I need."

 

Walter looked at Alex, exasperated. The boy was putting on an act for him, damn it! Fluttering those maddening eyelashes, poking out that plump bottom lip, angling himself so that the light played on his bare skin just so. Alex saw Walter looking and leaned into him, quickening his breathing so that he was practically panting.

 

"Please," he whimpered, arching his back, his erect nipples mere inches from Walter's face. "Don't make me beg, Daddy." The curtain of lashes dipped down again, then rose. Alex pouted prettily and slipped a hand into the front of Walter's robe, but stopped short when Walter grabbed his hand and placed it firmly in Alex’s own lap.

 

"Like I said, Alex," Walter said firmly, "I am not your Daddy. That's the only thing we seemed to agree on last night."

 

Alex hesitated, but only for a moment. "But you could be, couldn't you?" he asked plaintively. "I need a Daddy so bad, Walter. I didn't mean what I said last night. Please let me make it up to you."

 

"I don't need you to make anything up to me, Alex," Walter said impatiently. "I just need you to listen. You can't just show up here in the middle of the night, wearing next to nothing-"

 

"Don't you like my outfit?" Alex asked with an especially winsome pout. "I wore it just for you."

 

Walter gave him a stern look. "I asked you to listen, Alex. Are you listening?"

 

Alex looked down. "Yes, sir," he said meekly.

 

Walter frowned at him, trying to ignore the way those two words sent a jolt right to his cock.. "Alex," he tried again, a little more patiently this time. "You can't just show up here at three o'clock in the morning and expect me to be your Daddy for half an hour. That sort of play isn't something you do on a whim. It's something you think about long and hard." 

 

Alex smiled, glancing down toward Walter's obvious erection. "Long and hard," he repeated in a sensuous purr. "You want me. I can see how much you do." His hand stole downward, nimble fingers reaching toward the tented fabric.

 

Walter grabbed his hand and held it firmly. "Damn it, boy! There's more to it than that!" he snapped. 

 

Alex looked at Walter, wounded, his eyes sparkling with tears. He looked down again at Walter's undeniable arousal, then down at his own near-naked body. He shook his head, frustrated. "Don't you want me?" he asked softly. "I thought..."

 

"Alex," Walter said, not unkindly. "Of course I want you. Everyone who sees you wants you. But this isn't just about sex. I don't think you understand what you're asking for."

 

"I do!" Alex protested, quickly moving from the arm of the chair and curling up in Walter's lap. He wrapped his arms around Walter's neck, his eyes scanning Walter's face pleadingly. "Please," he whispered, nuzzling his face against Walter's neck. "I’ve been so bad, Daddy. Let me be your boy."

 

Walter felt his arms wrapping around Alex almost of their own accord. He held the boy, felt the warmth and the weight of him, the delicious feeling of friction along his cock. Alex raised his head and looked up at him, his gaze open and wanting. Walter stared down into those bottomless green depths, at once desperate for him and frustrated beyond measure. How in the hell did the boy manage to look like the most fuckable creature in existence and at the same time as innocent as a newborn lamb?

 

"Please," Alex said again, his voice soft and husky. "I know I was awful last night. You came and saved me and I behaved like such an ungrateful brat." His hand stole into the front of Walter's robe again. "I'm sorry I was a bad boy," he breathed, toying with Walter's nipples, fingers skating lower, toward the nest of dark hair below. "Punish me, just don't be mad at me. Please, Daddy. I'll do anything." 

 

Walter took a deep breath, still holding Alex's gaze intently. The boy was still laying it on thick, wriggling in his lap, pouting and batting those pretty eyelashes, anything to distract Walter from asking too many questions. Walter gripped Alex more tightly, grabbing the boy's roaming hand and holding it in place.

 

"Do you understand what you're asking?"

 

Alex stared up at him, his eyes wide, dark with arousal. "Yes," he whispered.

 

"I don't do anything by half-measures, boy," Walter growled, holding Alex's gaze firmly. "You'd better be sure."

 

Alex nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling at the thought of getting what he wanted. He shifted position and straddled Walter, thrusting his hips forward. He ground against Walter's cock, delighting in the gasp he wrung from the older man. "Yes," Alex said, throwing his head back and running his hand over his own chest, tweaking his nipples, making them redden and stand out even more. "Please," he moaned, "Be my Daddy, Walter. Give me what I need."

 

Walter watched Alex with grudging admiration. The boy was working him as hard as he worked the dance floor at The Dungeon. All right, boy, he thought. You want to play, we'll play. "Look at me," he ordered. Alex obeyed, dipping his head submissively and batting his eyelashes, playing the bad puppy to the hilt. "How do you think you should be punished?" Walter asked, his voice low and commanding.

 

There was a pause and a sharp intake of breath as arousal ran through Alex's body like an electric current. He looked into Walter's eyes and licked his lips slowly, deliberately.

 

"Spank me." Two words, hardly more than a breath. Alex’s eyes flickered downward in an apt approximation of remorse, then back up at Walter, twinkling with excitement and a hint of challenge. "Please."

 

Walter pulled the boy close and kissed him hard, plundering that gorgeous mouth, leaving him flushed and panting. "Is that what you came here for?" Walter asked gruffly, pinning Alex with his stern gaze. "You want me to spank you?"

 

Alex nodded, clinging to Walter. "Yes," he said, grinding his hips against Walter's, his own cock hard under the faded denim. "I've been a bad boy. Spank me hard, Daddy, please."

 

Without another word, Walter stood, swinging Alex up in his arms. Alex gasped and held on tightly as Walter carried him into the bedroom and dropped him onto the king-sized bed.

 

"Strip," he commanded, that one word crisp and inarguable.

 

Alex quickly obeyed. He made quick work of it, his crumpled cutoffs joining his boots and socks in a heap on the floor. He leaned back on his elbows, naked, his legs spread provocatively. He looked at Walter, his eyes alight with devilment despite his submissive pose.

 

"Are you going to spank me now?" he asked softly, one hand idly stroking his hard cock. Walter moved quickly, abruptly flipping Alex over onto his stomach and delivering a crisp smack to the boy's ass.

 

"Ow!" Alex yelped. He reached back and rubbed his reddened cheek, giving Walter a wounded look over his shoulder. "That hurt."

 

"Touch your cock again without permission and you can forget about sitting down anytime soon," Walter warned, playing the role of stern Top to the hilt. The boy responded exactly as Walter thought he would, getting up on his knees, still rubbing his sore bottom, pouting all the while. Alex's cock stood straight up, drops of moisture shining on the crown. He looked at Walter and dropped his eyes penitently.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Walter looked at him, his eyes moving over Alex's body, so beautiful, so willing. Alex knelt there on the bed, trembling with excitement, his cock hard and aching.

 

"You're sure this is what you want?" Walter asked. 

 

"Yes," Alex breathed, looking up at Walter. "I've never been spanked before," he said shyly. "It's my first time."

 

Walter folded his arms and leaned against the dresser. "I haven't known you very long, Alex, but I find that very difficult to believe."

 

Alex nodded sincerely. "You're my first." He looked down shyly. "I want it to be you." Walter stared at him for a moment, then sat down on the edge of the bed. Alex knelt beside him, waiting. "Use a hairbrush, Daddy, please," he breathed. "I've always wanted to get spanked with a hairbrush."

 

Walter looked at Alex, his eyebrow raised. "I seem to have forgotten to pack one."

 

Alex glanced up at Walter's bald head and blushed. "Oops," he giggled. "Sorry."

 

"Besides," Walter said sternly. "I decide how you get spanked and with what, young man. I don't need anything but my hand to make a certain naughty little boy think very hard about misbehaving again. Is that clear?"

 

Alex clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head, chewing his lip to keep from smiling with delight.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Then get over my knee," Walter said, his deep, authoritative voice sending delicious shivers up and down Alex's spine.

 

Alex scrambled to obey, arranging himself pleasingly over Walter's thighs, his bare bottom thrust out to be worshipped. "I'm ready," he said, quivering with anticipation.

 

Walter looked down at him, seeing the way the boy's back arched, the way his cheeks clenched and relaxed. The boy was drawing Walter's attention just where he wanted it. Walter caressed the firm mounds, eliciting gasps and moans of pleasure from Alex.

 

"You've been a very naughty boy, Alex," Walter growled. "Are you ready to take your punishment?"

 

"Yes, sir," Alex whimpered, clutching at the bedclothes. "I'm sorry I was bad."

 

"I hope you learn your lesson, boy," Walter said sternly. On his lap, Alex gasped and sighed and wriggled, thrusting against Walter's thighs. Walter spread his thighs wider and lifted Alex, rearranging him so that his cock fell into the space in between. Alex mewled in protest, earning himself a warning swat. "All right, Alex," Walter said, raising his hand again. “It's time you get what you've got coming."

 

He brought his hand down swiftly, leaving a red blotch on Alex's creamy right cheek. Alex cried out and wriggled again, panting through his open mouth. Walter held him firmly with one arm anchored around his waist and raised his hand again. It came down authoritatively on Alex's left cheek, the sound loud and crisp in the early morning quiet.

 

"Ow, Daddy," Alex pouted. "I'll be good, I promise..."

 

"We're just getting started, little boy," Walter promised, delivering another sharp smack to Alex's upturned ass. 

 

"Oh!" Alex gasped, bucking under Walter's hand. "Yes, please..."

 

Walter spanked him with a steady rhythm, gradually turning his bottom pink and then red. Alex howled and babbled, his mouth open, his eyes closed, lost in his own fantasy.

 

"Are you going to be good, boy?" Walter demanded, targeting Alex's sit-spot with a volley of crisp whacks.

 

"Oh...yes, Daddy...yes..." Alex moaned, a light sheen of sweat across his back. 

 

"Are you going to remember your lesson?" Walter asked, feeling the boy's firm flesh springing back under his hand.

 

"Yes! Yes, I swear!" Alex whimpered in ecstasy, his hands fisting in the bedclothes. "I'll remember, I promise!" 

 

"Are you going to stop telling lies?" Walter asked, almost casually. He stilled his hand and waited.

 

The words took a moment to penetrate Alex's endorphin-fueled haze, as did the fact that the spanking had stopped. Alex lay very, very still. "I..." he stammered. "I didn’t-"

 

"You said this was the first time you've ever been spanked," Walter continued, his tone conversational and light. "You said you wanted me to be your first." 

 

Alex's eyes flew open wide. He tried to scramble off Walter's lap but found himself held firmly in place.

 

"I had a little talk with Johnny the bartender the other night," Walter said. "He told me a friend of his saw you getting paddled at The Dungeon last week." He walloped Alex's ass twice more, hard, making him yelp. He shoved the boy off his lap and stood up. Alex landed on his sore bottom, hissing as it made contact with the firm mattress.

 

Walter looked at him grimly, his arms folded. "You lied to me, Alex. All that sweet talk about your first time, about wanting me to be the one. You tried to play me for a fool."

 

"I-I'm sorry," Alex stammered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean-"

 

"No, Alex," Walter said abruptly. "I'm sorry. Sorry I thought you were more than just another pretty little twink working an angle."

 

Alex sucked in his breath. "Walter?" he said, his voice quavering.

 

Walter turned his back on Alex and sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped.

 

"Just get dressed and go, Alex," he said tiredly. "I don't want to play any more. Go back to The Dungeon, find yourself a leather stud to act out your fantasies with."

 

"Walter, please-"

 

"Just go," Walter said, without turning around. "I have a flight leaving in a few hours and I'd like to get some sleep."

 

Alex was silent for a moment. Walter stared at the wall. He felt empty. He reached for the phone. Maybe he could get an earlier flight out, just get out of here and forget the last few days had ever happened.

 

Suddenly Alex was kneeling at his side, clinging to him, his head resting on Walter's thigh.

 

"I don't want to go," he whispered, his throat tight. "Please let me stay."

 

Walter looked down at him. "Alex-"

 

"Please," Alex said again, raising tear-filled eyes to Walter. "I'm sorry."

 

Walter made an exasperated sound and stood up. He walked over to the window and looked out at the city lights. "Bullshit," he said simply. He turned to look at Alex. "You've been running a game on me since you walked in that door. Do you really think I don't see what you're doing? You're trying to play me, Alex, just like you play those lust-crazed fools who crowd around to watch you dance. Is that what this is?" he asked, his voice rising. "Just bat your eyelashes and shove that pretty ass in my face and tell me what you think I want to hear, right?"

 

"No!" Alex shouted, blinking back tears. "It's not like that!" 

 

Walter crossed the room quickly and pulled Alex to his feet. "That's exactly how it is, Alex!" he snapped. "You lied to me. You manipulated me. You used me to make a mockery out of something special, something that belongs between two people who love and trust one another."

 

Alex looked up at him, seeing the anger and pain in those brown eyes. He stared into them, his mouth falling open as he realized his mistake.

 

"Walter," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry, I-"

 

"Go ahead," Walter said angrily. "Tell me you didn't come in here and throw yourself at me, knowing all the while exactly what you wanted and how to get it. Tell me you didn't lie to me. Tell me this isn't all just a joke to you."

 

Alex looked at Walter pleadingly, his eyes wet. "It's not, Walter," he said, his chin trembling. "Please believe me."

 

Walter stared at Alex, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why should I?" he asked simply, his voice rough. 

 

Alex looked down, sniffling softly. "Because it's the truth," he whispered.

 

Walter folded his arms and looked down at the weeping boy, the narrow shoulders shaking, the head gracefully bowed. Was this the real Alex at last? Was the mask of the playful tease finally stripped away? Or was this just another act? "Alex," he said softly. "I can't be what you want."

 

Suddenly Walter’s arms were full. "Yes, you can," Alex sobbed, burying his face in Walter's chest. "Be my Daddy, Walter, please." 

 

Walter shook his head. "Alex, I don't play-"

 

"No!" Alex cried, clinging to the front of Walter's robe with both hands. "You want me, I know you do!" he sobbed. "You want to be my Daddy for real! That’s why you're so angry at me!"

 

Walter held him, stunned. His heart, which only moments before had shuddered inside him at the thought of never seeing Alex again, now leapt, full of bright hope. Could the boy mean what he was saying? Walter's hands itched to bury themselves in Alex's sable hair and Walter let them, stroking it softly as Alex clung to him and cried. 

 

"I don't want to play any more," Alex choked, turning streaming eyes up to Walter. "I need you, Walter. Please give me another chance."

 

"Alex," Walter said gently, wrapping his arms around the distraught boy, "What you're asking...it's a very serious thing. It's not something you rush into."

 

"Yes, sir," Alex said softly, hanging his head. "I know that now. I should have told you the truth. But I...I didn't think you'd..." he trailed off, swallowing hard.

 

"What?" Walter asked gently, cupping Alex's face in his hands and raising it to him. 

 

Alex tried to look away but Walter wouldn't let him.

 

"I didn't think you'd want me for real," he whispered brokenly. "Especially after last night."

 

"Alex," Walter said softly, pulling him close.

 

Alex's face crumpled. He wrapped his arms around Walter's neck and hung on for dear life. "Please want me, Walter," he whispered. "Let me be yours. I'm so sorry I lied. I thought you'd like it better if I never was before-"

 

"Alex," Walter said again, waiting until the boy raised his tear-stained face. He stroked Alex's damp cheek gently. "What happened in the past doesn't matter. You don't ever have to pretend with me."

 

Alex leaned into the touch, squeezing his eyes shut miserably. Tears leaked out through his thick lashes. "I'm sorry," he choked. "Please let me be your boy. No more games, I promise."

 

Walter held Alex for another moment, let him cry. Then he looked into the boy's eyes. "No more games?"

 

Alex shook his head forcefully. "No more games."

 

"No more lies?" Walter pressed.

 

Alex nodded quickly. "No more lies," he promised. 

 

Walter’s voice was soft as suede. "You want to be mine?"

 

Alex nodded, clinging to Walter again. "Please," he whispered. "Make me yours. Need to be yours."

 

Walter waited until Alex met his eyes again. "Do you understand what it means to be my boy?" he asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

 

Alex nodded again, his eyes clear and trusting. He spoke without hesitation. "Yes, sir."

 

Walter sat down on the edge of the bed again. He looked at Alex, making sure the words sank in.

 

"I don't really think you do," he said softly. "But by the time we're through here, you will."

 

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered.

 

Walter looked at Alex, his expression solemn. "Trust is important in any relationship, Alex, but in a discipline relationship, it's absolutely essential. If you give yourself to me, you give yourself wholly and completely. You need to be able to trust me to decide what's best for you, for us both. Can you do that?"

 

"Yes, Walter," Alex answered quietly.

 

"Good," Walter said, smiling. "I need to be able to trust you, too," he continued, his expression growing serious again. "That's why it's so important that you're honest with me, no matter what. No more lies, no more games. That's what we said, isn’t it?"

 

"Yes, sir," Alex said softly. "No more, I promise."

 

Walter sat silently for a moment, his eyes studying Alex’s face. Alex stood still, waiting. 

 

"This isn't a casual decision, Alex," Walter said quietly. "If you're my boy, you're forever my boy. That means when my plane leaves this morning, you're sitting right there beside me. Are you sure that's what you want?"

 

"Yes, Walter," Alex said, his eyes alight. "More than anything."

 

Walter had to smile at the sight of his eager boy. He wanted to take Alex in his arms, hold him tight, bury his face in that silky dark hair. But that would have to wait. They had unfinished business to settle first.

 

"Part of being my boy means accepting punishment when it's needed. Can you do that, Alex?" Walter asked.

 

"Yes, sir," Alex answered softly.

 

"Then put yourself back over my knee," Walter said. "We need to lay a few ground rules."

 

Walter's voice was stern but his deep brown eyes were telling Alex to trust him, to let Walter take care of him. Alex nodded and gulped a little, his backside clenching at the memory of those last two whacks. He slowly crawled into position and clung to the coverlet, his heart pounding, waiting nervously for what was to come. 

 

"Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" Walter asked one last time.

 

"Yes, sir," Alex said, his voice shaking a little. He squeezed his eyes shut and knew it was true. There was nowhere else on earth he wanted to be.

 

"All right," Walter said sternly. "I'm going to continue now, and I promise you, little boy, by the time I'm through, you are going to understand the difference between a lie and the truth."

 

Alex winced as the first slap landed hard on his right cheek.

 

"Ow," he whimpered. He squirmed under Walter's strong arm, his backside stinging mightily. 

 

"I want you to remember this, Alex," Walter said, bringing his hand down hard on Alex's left cheek. "I don't want to have to spank you like this again."

 

"Ow!" Alex yelped again, his eyes filling with tears. The spanking had just begun and already he was very sure he agreed with Walter on that point. "Yes, sir!"

 

Walter began spanking Alex harder, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh. Alex bucked and twisted under Walter’s hand, his ass beginning to throb.

 

"I'm sorry!" he whined, wincing as Walter's hand cracked down again. "Please, Daddy!"

 

"Why did you lie to me?" Walter demanded. "Why, Alex?"

 

"I thought you'd think it was hot!" Alex howled, beginning to kick. 

 

"Oh, it will be," Walter said ominously, looking down at Alex’s red bottom. "I don't like being manipulated." He landed several more hard spanks as Alex struggled.

 

"I...I didn’t mean to..." Alex whined as Walter's hand cracked down across his tender ass again. "I'm sorry!"

 

"Settle down," Walter said firmly, bringing his hand down again. "We've got a long way to go."

 

Alex whimpered again and hung on as Walter proceeded to turn his already sore butt a deep, glowing crimson.

 

"Are you ever going to lie to me again, Alex?" Walter demanded, turning his attention to the tender tops of Alex's thighs.

 

"NO!" Alex yowled, trying to twist out of the way of Walter's unerring hand. "No more lies! I promise!"

 

"Are you sure?" Walter demanded, holding Alex firmly in place and raising his hand again. "No more games?"

 

"Yes, sir!" Alex shouted, meaning it sincerely. "No more games, I swear!" 

 

"And as for the rest of the rules," Walter said, spanking Alex briskly. "From now on, you are not to go to the clubs alone. You go with me or not at all."

 

"Yes, sir. Ow!" Alex yelped again. "Not so hard, Daddy, please..."

 

"And while I'm on the subject," Walter said, his palm connecting with Alex's bottom crisply. "You have danced on your last bar, little boy. When we go out, you may dance as much as you like, but the moment you start putting on a show I am going to put you over my knee and spank you right there in front of everyone."

 

"Yes, Daddy," Alex sniffled miserably.

 

"And," Walter continued, alternating one sit spot and then the other, the crisp sound of his hand on Alex's bare butt ringing off the walls. "You are never...EVER...going to go out in public dressed like that again. Do you understand?" 

 

"Yes, sir!" Alex wailed, hanging on for dear life as Walter brought the spanking to an eye-watering finale. "Never again, I promise!"

 

"Are you going to be good?" Walter asked, whacking Alex's hapless backside another half-dozen times. "Are you going to be a good boy so Daddy doesn't have to spank you?"

 

"Yes, sir!" Alex managed before bursting into tears. "Yes, Daddy, I promise!" He hid his face in his folded arms and bawled. He barely noticed that the spanking was over as Walter lifted him up and gathered him into his lap. 

 

"It's all over now," Walter whispered, kissing a damp cheek. "All over and you're forgiven."

 

Alex clung to him like a limpet, sobbing out his heartbreak and loneliness and fear. "Sorry," he gasped. "Sorry-"

 

"Shhh," Walter replied, his voice deep and comforting. "Everything's all right, little boy."

 

He held Alex and let him cry, rocking him gently as the boy's sobs gradually gave way to hiccups. They sat there on the edge of the bed for a long time, Alex nestled in Walter's arms, the bond between them deepening. At last, Alex looked up, found Walter looking down at him, his dark eyes shining, full of love and acceptance. Alex smiled a little as Walter caressed his face, wiping away the last tears with his thumb. 

 

"Are you okay?" Walter asked softly. Alex nodded, resting his head on Walter's shoulder. Walter rubbed circles on Alex's back, warming the skin. "We still have a few things to talk about, Alex," Walter said gently.

 

Alex looked up. "More rules?" he asked tentatively, biting his lip.

 

"No, Alex," Walter laughed, tugging him closer and wrapping him in a bear hug. "I think we've covered the rules thoroughly enough for now."

 

"I think so, too," Alex said sincerely, reaching back to rub his tender bottom.

 

Walter laughed again and dropped a kiss on the dark head, feeling the soft hair against his lips. "Alex," he said, his voice growing quiet and serious again, "I meant what I said about the flight, about you sitting beside me." He paused, suddenly afraid that Alex might be having second thoughts. He'd obviously enjoyed the fantasy of a Daddy/boy relationship, but would the reality prove to be too much for him? He might decide that staying in New York was preferable to going home with Walter, especially if he had to sit on an airline pillow to get there. Walter looked into Alex's eyes, searching the emerald depths for any sign of fear or reluctance. "Are you sure you still want to come with me?"

 

Alex clung to Walter more tightly. "Yes, Walter," he said quietly. "I want to be with you."

 

Walter held him, felt him relax and settle, the warmth of him feeling good against Walter's chest. "What about your job?" Walter asked quietly. "You're okay with giving it up?"

 

Alex shrugged. "I can wait tables anywhere, Walter," he mumbled.

 

"What about school?" Walter pressed gently. "Are you in college?" 

 

Alex ducked his head. "Doesn't matter how smart you are if you don't have the money to back it up," he said bitterly.

 

The resignation in Alex's voice made Walter's heart hurt. He looked down at the boy in his arms and felt the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams, of chances never given. Things will be different now, little boy, he thought. 

 

"Where do you live?" Walter asked, rubbing Alex's shoulders soothingly. "We need to stop by there later to pack up your things."

 

Alex shrugged and mumbled something.

 

"What was that?" Walter asked.

 

Alex was silent for a moment. "I...I don't have anything worth taking," he said finally, his voice low. "I just sleep there."

 

"Alex," Walter said, a little more firmly. "We are going to get your things before we leave."

 

Alex hid his burning face. "Don't want you to see it," he said softly. 

 

"Do you want another spanking so soon, little boy?" Walter rumbled.

 

Alex raised his head, his eyes wide. "N-no, sir."

 

"You don't ever have to be ashamed with me, Alex," Walter said, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't ever have to be afraid to show me your whole self, not just the parts you think I want to see."

 

Alex gulped and nodded, looking down as fresh tears welled up in his eyes. "It's just a one room rathole in Brooklyn," he whispered. "The landlord probably won't even know I'm gone."

 

Walter put his arm around Alex's shoulders, pulled him closer. "There's no shame in not having money, Alex," he said gently. "The only shame is in having it and not doing some good with it."

 

Alex bit his lip, leaned into Walter's caress. "Yes, sir," he said softly. 

 

Walter smoothed Alex's hair back out of his eyes. "What about family? Friends?" he asked. Alex shook his head. He slipped his arms around Walter's waist and held on tight. Walter looked down at him, his heart aching, Alex's simple gesture saying more than words ever could. He tilted Alex's face up and kissed him tenderly. "No more sadness, little boy," he whispered. "No more fear. I'm going to take care of you." He paused and kissed Alex again. "You're mine, Alex," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm your family now."

 

Alex caught his breath. His fingertips brushed Walter's cheek, lingering there. "Yours," he breathed.

 

"Yes," Walter said, capturing Alex's hand and pressing it to his lips. "My boy. Mine to love," he paused and kissed the tip of Alex's nose, "to spank," his hand settled on Alex's still-warm bottom and gave it a gentle squeeze, "and to spoil rotten," he finished with a grin.

 

"Love?" Alex whispered, his eyes huge.

 

"Love," Walter said, his own eyes shining. "I love you, Alex."

 

"I love you, Walter," Alex said softly, snuggling against him and sighing happily. "Your boy. Forever your boy."

 

Walter slipped out of his robe and lay back, gently pulling Alex with him, arranging him so that he was draped over Walter, his head on Walter's chest. Alex smiled sleepily as Walter pulled the sheets up over them, mindful of his boy's sore rear end. 

 

"I'm going to call my secretary before we leave," Walter said quietly. "I want her to clear my schedule for next week. You and I are going to spend it touring college campuses."

 

Alex looked up, tears springing to his wide eyes. "I'm going to college?" he asked breathlessly. "You mean it, Walter? I'm really going?"

 

"You'd better believe it," Walter answered with a grin. "And I have a feeling you'll graduate with honors," he added, patting Alex's sheet-covered rump.

 

Alex laughed and rested his head on Walter's chest again. Fresh tears squeezed out beneath his lashes and dampened Walter's bare skin. "I never thought I'd..." Alex whispered, his throat tight. "Thank you so much, Daddy. I'll work hard, I promise. I'll make you proud of me."

 

"I know you will, little boy," Walter said quietly, ruffling his hair. "I know you will." 

 

They lay like that for a long time, Walter idly toying with an errant lock of Alex's hair, Alex listening to Walter's heartbeat, strong and comforting in his ear.

 

Walter was nearly asleep when Alex raised his head, a familiar mischievous grin on his face.

 

"Spoil rotten?"

 

 

The End


End file.
